


The Adventures of Harriet Potter: Year 5

by Kleinnak



Series: The Adventures of Harriet Potter [5]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Canon Genderbending, Genderswap, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-23
Updated: 2018-09-09
Packaged: 2018-09-16 22:04:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 27
Words: 217,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9291476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kleinnak/pseuds/Kleinnak
Summary: The eyes of the wizarding world fall on Great Britain, now guilty of an unspeakable atrocity, and doing everything in its power to hide the fact that Lord Voldemort has returned. Braces yourselves. This may be the worst year in the life of Harriet Potter.





	1. Obliviated and Obscured

*Contains psychological horror elements including sexual assault and memory loss, which may be disturbing or triggering to some readers

 

“It is undoubtedly ironic that the best lies require an element of truth to work.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Sherrod Howe’s smile was grim as he Apparated onto the Rathlin grounds. He was content with himself, having finally reached a critical conclusion. Solomon Kinney could assume forms other than human.

Metamorphmagi were assumed to only be able to take the forms of other people. With concentration and practice, they could shape their features into animal-like forms, for instance turning their nose into a pig-snout, but not much more. This was one of several factors that distinguished them from animagi, apart from the other obvious difference, that metamorphmagi were born that way, unlike animagi who trained to be. Unfortunately, this was not as helpful to Howe as it could be. This still did not tell them what other form—or forms—Kinney could take.

Howe’s thoughts were cut short only a second after he popped onto the grounds. He had landed in the midst of sheer chaos. Someone bumped into him; chaotic, panicked voices were filling the air.

“Phillips, Ursula!”

Howe spun around in circles. He caught sight of an Auror moving past him. Aurors were everywhere. Students were being separated out at wand-point. Howe’s chest felt like it was being torn open. There was terror on the face of every student he could see.

“Phillips, Ursula!”

“Sherrod!”

Howe spun around once more. Watkins was hurrying towards him, jostling his way through the crowd. The look on his face filled Howe with a dread he had not felt in ages. Jefferson Watkins, decorated military doctor, was one of the bravest men Howe knew. He was a man who took a sniper’s bullet in his hip during the Falklands and kept working to treat his patients. His actions left him with a permanent limp, ended his military career, and earned himself the Conspicuous Gallantry Cross.

And yet, the look on his face was one of sheer terror.

“Phillips, Ursula!”

“Watkins, what’s happening?” Howe demanded, rushing over to his friend.

“It’s the Ministry!” Watkins explained, out of breath and leaning to keep the weight off his bad leg. “They arrived here half an hour ago. Started rounding up the students. They’re wiping the Muggle students’ memories.”

“Why?!” Howe exclaimed, looking around feeling his sense of panic rising.

“Educational Decree Number Twenty,” Watkins growled. “Some bullocks about magical and nonmagical students not being allowed to attend the same institutions. They’re shutting down the school. Wiping all the memories… Howe… _all_ of them!”

Howe felt a hollowness growing inside him.

“All of their memories…? Who the hell gave that order? Where the hell are the Oblivators? The rules stipulated only memories of magic were to be erased! That’s the law!”

“No Obliviators,” Watkins explained. “It’s the Aurors doing it. I tried to tell them but they said they were under orders. They kept saying it was some drivel about security and ‘the greater good’.”

“PHILLIPS, URSULA!”

The voice made Howe freeze. He knew that voice. That horrible, sinister, overly girly voice. Dolores Umbridge. Watkins didn’t need to say anymore. He knew who was behind this. Howe went to draw his wand but what he saw next made him freeze. Little Ursula Phillips, only fifteen, stepped into the gap between magical and muggle students.

Howe couldn’t move. He was too stunned by what he was witnessing. He felt as though time for him had stopped, but everything else was moving. What was going on?

Ursula wasn’t a muggle. She was a squib. She was an American Squib. Her father had just died three months ago on the American Eastern Front. She wanted to be a screenwriter. She was currently working on a screenplay about her father’s life.

Howe’s eyes found Dolores Umbridge. The squat, pink, toad-like woman was grinning smugly at Ursula as the girl stepped forward. Ursula was sobbing.

“Please, I’m a squib… I’m not a Muggle… I’m a squib,” Ursula pleaded.

“Well, that’s what you would say if you were a Muggle, isn’t it, dear?” Umbridge sneered.

Howe’s legs jerked into motion. He was running. He was shoving through people. He had to stop this. He drew his wand.

“ _Oliviate!”_

“NO!”

Howe fell to his knees, having just reached the edge of the gap. He was too late. Ursula’s teary eyes went out of focus, and she stumbled backwards a little. She sank to the ground and Howe hurried over to her, on his knees. He took the girl’s face in his hands, looking into her eyes.

“Ursula, Ursula, please, it’s Professor Howe, please…”

Ursula blinked at him, dazed and vacant.

“Ursa-who…?” the girl muttered. “Who are you…? I… it’s dark out…”

Howe hugged the girl tight, his face contorted in pain. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” he whispered.

“Ahh, there you are, _former_ _Professor_ Howe,” twittered Dolores Umbridge’s loathsome voice. “I’m very sorry to inform you, but you are under arrest on suspicion of sedition against the Ministry… I’m going to have to ask you not to resist, or there will be _consequences_ …”

Howe paid no attention to her. His eyes were scanning the Obliviated students. Every face his eyes found was another stab deep into his heart. The eyes were all vacant. They had been made to forget everything. Their whole lives. Complete memory wipes. Only a trained Obliviator, and the same Obliviator who had done the Obliviating, could ever hope to restore those lost memories.

This was borderline murder. The people these children had been were gone forever. They would never be the same again. Most of them would never recover and properly function as people again from this. Obliviating was a traumatic enough experience for normal, short memories. Obliviating over a decade of education from some of these students would be more than their minds could ever handle.

And yet… there was one tiny glimmer of hope. One face above all was conspicuous in its absence amongst the crowd. Finn. They had not yet found Finn. That had to mean he and his brother had done what Howe had told them to do so long ago. He had to get to the castle.

Just one. He had to save at least one of them. He could never stop Umbridge and the Aurors from getting all of them. He was just one man, and Watkins was a squib. But he could save one of them.

He felt Aurors grab both of his arms. They yanked him up, away from Ursula, onto his feet. One of them went for Howe’s wand.

 _Crack_.

With a resounding whack, the handle of Watkin’s cane struck across the face of the Auror reaching for Howe’s wand.

“GO!” Watkins shouted, before cracking his cane across the face of the other Auror holding Howe.

Both Aurors crumpled, crying out in pain. Watkins brandished his cane at another Auror but a jet of red light hit him from behind and Watkins crumbled, stunned.

Howe did not think twice. He pirouetted and spun his wand. He felt tight bands around his body, compressing him needle thin as his body rocketed many times faster than the speed of sound across the island.

His feet hit the ground and he looked around. He was standing amongst the ruins of Bruce’s castle. In the distance he could hear voices. All around the dark plain he could see the light of Aurors’ wands.

They were searching. Most likely searching for Finn. If they had gotten through the list to Phillips, then they must have passed Negus. At least now he was safe in the castle. He’d told him to run here so long ago. _If anything happens, to me or to the school, take your brother and run to the castle_ , he had told the stubborn boy, _save yourself and your brother and run to the castle. They’ll take you in_.

He could still see Finn’s nine-year old face. _I’ll keep my brother safe, Mr Howe._

Mr Howe. Finn had called him that for years. At first because he didn’t know any better, later because he thought it annoyed Howe. Howe never minded. If anything, it made the boy even more endearing to him.

Howe didn’t particularly care to be a professor. The school had chosen him, that was as much as he knew. His only ever concern was the safety of the students. It was Watkins who ran the curriculums, composed and conducted the end of year symphony, wrote the letters to parents…

Howe had failed. He had failed so spectacularly he still did not feel the full effect. Somehow, the Ministry had outmanoeuvred him. He had been so caught up in trying to track down Kinney and Voldemort that he had overlooked them completely. He had fought a war on too many fronts.

There was a shuffling sound behind him. Howe spun around. Finn was standing there. He had a large stick in his hands, wielding it like a club.

Finn’s face broke into relief when he realized it was Howe. Howe, however, felt anything but reassured. Instead, he now felt rage.

“Why are you still here?!” he demanded. “Why aren’t you in the castle?”

Finn blinked in confusion. He looked around at the crumbled, ruined walls.

“What you mean?” Finn asked. “We are in the castle.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LET THEM IN!” Howe roared into the darkness. “YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAVE THEM IF THEY CAME! I TRUSTED YOU! YOU SWORE TO ME!”

“Professor Howe?” it was Colm’s voice now.

Howe was fuming. He had kept their secret for so long, and they had betrayed him. Just when it mattered more than anything to him in the world. They had turned their backs on him.

Howe stormed over to Finn and Colm. The boys were looking at him with mixed expressions of confusion and fear. Howe conjured a jar in mid-air, caught it and tapped it with his wand, putting an unbreakable charm on it. It was about to carry the most precious cargo Howe had left.

There was only one thing he could do. Time was short. The Ministry would find them any minute. He couldn’t take Finn or Colm anywhere. Colm had the trace on him, and the Ministry would detect magic being done around Finn as well. They couldn’t go on the run, and they couldn’t hide.

“Finn,” Howe said, placing his hands on the sides of Finn’s head as he had done with Ursula only minutes before, looking into the boy’s blue eyes with all the seriousness he could muster. “You have to trust me… I’m going to save you, but you have to trust me.”

“S-save me?” Finn spluttered, more fear coming to his face now. “Sir, what are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“No time to explain,” Howe said, unscrewing the lid of the jar. “Colm, watch what I’m doing very carefully. Your brother’s life depends on this.”

Colm sniffed. The boy was barely keeping it together.

“Colm,” Howe said, doing his best to sound as calm and collected as he could in the face of losing one of the two closest people he had ever known to sons. “You have to be strong. You have to be brave, now. I can’t stop what’s going to happen, but I can save your brother. And so can you. It’s your turn to take care of him. Watch carefully…”

Colm sniffed again and choked back a sob, but he watched. Howe gave Finn a serious, but confident look as he touched the tip of his wand to Finn’s left temple. He closed his eyes in concentration, and drew the wand away. As he did, a shimmering, gossamer thread of memory trailed from the wand’s tip. Howe put the tip of his wand into the jar. The strand of memory disconnected from the tip of the wand, dangling into the jar.

“What the hell is that?!” Finn exclaimed and tried to pull away, a hint of panic in his voice.

“Stay still,” Howe ordered.

There was no time to explain thoroughly, and no time to be gentle. He had to do this as fast as he could.

“I’m taking your memories,” Howe explained as he slid his wand tip along the strand of memory, pulling more and more of it into the jar, as if unreeling a roll of string into the jaw. On and on it went now, as if flowing.

“Taking my what?” Finn asked, his eyes wide. “What’s happening? What are they doing to everyone?”

“Everything but genocide,” Howe muttered.

In the distance, Howe could hear voices. He looked over his shoulder. The lights from Aurors’ wands were getting closer. They must have heard him shouting. He grimaced returning his attention to his work. The jar was only a quarter full, but it was filling at a good pace. The jar should be big enough for all his memories. At least his memories as far back as the Aurors were likely to wipe. They needed more time.

“Colm… come here,” Howe said, gesturing the boy over.

Colm stepped up to him, trembling slightly.

“You see what I’m doing…?” Howe asked, doing his best to sound calmer.

“Y-yes,” Colm stammered.

“Keep this going… this is the only way to save your brother. This is your brother’s life going into this jar, do you understand?”

Colm choked back another sob and nodded. Howe hugged his arm around Colm’s shoulders and kissed his forehead. “You two are the closest I’ve ever had to sons, I’ve always been here for you… but now this is the best I can do for you. You have to be strong for your brother… you have to find him after this is over and give him back his memories.”

“S-sir?”

Howe indicated for Colm to hold the jar. The boy took it, his hands still shaking.

“Take them all. Every bit of the memories. Keep it going until they stop. It shouldn’t be long now. When they come, hide that jar. Keep it safe. That’s your brother’s life.”

Howe turned, and tightened his grip on the wand as he started walking towards the oncoming Aurors. His wand crackled and sparked as his rage began to grow.

“I’ll stall them…”

Howe stole one last pained glance over his shoulder at the boys. Colm was putting himself to the task that Howe had given him. Finn was watching Howe. The expression on his face was one of pain and betrayal. Howe grimaced.

“Goodbye…”

## * * * *

Meanwhile, on a deserted London street, Aello hefted her shield higher on her shoulder. It was wrapped in canvas, Aello hoping it would look like a giant plate or tray of some kind, rather than what it truly was. Hidden underneath it was her sword, its handle up, just protruding over her shoulder for easy access, though also covered with a flap of cloth.

Beside her, Professor Cato sighed in a resigned way.

“So… this is it…”

Aello grimaced. He was going to get emotional again. She hated when he did that. He had also become gushy with his pride after she was selected to be the champion for Mount Phoenix.

It wasn’t that Aello didn’t appreciate his confidence in her, or even his fatherly attitude. She just didn’t know how to respond to such an authority figure giving himself over to emotions so readily. She wished he would be more like his son, Marius, who was also standing with his father, wishing her farewell. Marius tended to listen first, then act or speak.

“You are sure you do not want to return with the rest of the school?” Professor Cato asked, for what felt like the one-hundredth time.

“Yes, I am sure,” Aello said. “I am on my own now…”

“That is not true,” Professor Cato said. “And you know it is not. And it never has been.”

Aello gritted her teeth a little. It was difficult for her to think that way. As far as Aello was concerned, she had always been alone. But Viktor…

“Yes,” Aello said curtly. “But I need to move on. I need to… just time for a quiet life.”

Professor Cato put a hand on Aello’s shoulder. Aello felt her body tense. She didn’t like people touching her. That is, she didn’t until Viktor.

“Good luck, then, Aello,” Professor Cato smiled kindly

“Thank you, Professor.”

“Good luck, Aello,” Marius said under his breath.

Aello nodded down to him. Marius rarely opened his mouth fully when he spoke. He never wanted people to see his teeth. Aello supposed she could respect that. Magical attitudes weren’t as enlightened as they liked to pretend.

Aello turned without another word and headed down the escalator into the tube station. She surreptitiously tapped her wand on the turnstile and passed through. The turnstile monitor didn’t notice, his nose buried in a newspaper.

As it was almost eleven at night, the platform was deserted. Aello furrowed her brow. Something was wrong. There should at least be someone here.

Where others would have frozen to assess the situation, Aello knew better. The moment she heard the scuff of a boot-sole pivoting on the stone floor behind her she acted. Aello knew the sound well. She ducked and rolled, drawing her sword as her assailant’s sword flashed through the air where Aello’s neck had just been.

Aello rolled to her feet, ready for the next attack. It came just as quickly as the first. From the sound the sword made as it slashed through the air from the first attack, her attacker was right-handed. Aello pivoted to the right, turning her back to her attack. With a resounding clang, the sword-blow rebounded off Aello’s shield on her back as though it were a steel turtle-shell.

The reflected blow staggered her attacker. Aello pivoted back and swung her own blade upwards towards her attacker. Aello hoped the retaliation from an unexpected direction would fool her attacker, but unfortunately, the attacker managed to recover their footing in time and dodged the blow.

Aello locked her eyes open, unblinking. Their feet moved with practiced grace, as if dancing as they circled around and around. Swords flashed and swirled through the air, never touching as they darted and dodged around each other.

It was not just bad form to use one’s blade to block another, it was foolish. With edged swords such as theirs, hitting blades against each other’s dented the blades and damaged them. It was better to dodge, swerving and moving until you spotted an opening.

Aello did her best to keep her eyes on her attacker’s body rather than the head or feet. It was easy for an attacker to jink or jerk them and trick you into making a mistake.

Her attacker was dressed in slate grey, which blended in well with the shadowed concrete, and her face was covered in a hood. She was wearing a form-fitting top, hardened leather bracers on her forearms, loose-fitting slate-grey pants, and black boots.

Her attacker didn’t need the hood. Certainly not to hide her identity from Aello. Aello knew who it was the moment she had heard the boot-scuff. She had been training (and fighting) this attacker since she was old enough to hold a sword.

However, knowing her attacker was no comfort. Her name was Hip. If they had sent Hip after her, they meant to kill her, and they had sent the best weapon they had.

Aello continued her counter-attack. She had to keep Hip on the defensive. Hip struggled with defence. Hip was an arrow, a weapon you aimed at your enemy and fired. She attacked without conscience or hesitation.

Things were not yet in Aello’s favour. She could keep attacking yet she was also carrying her shield. It slowed her down, and would wear her out faster. It was now her stamina versus Hip’s weakness on defence. Aello had to make this as quick as she could. Her shield would now become a weapon.

Aello exhaled sharply, as if about to make a move. Hip took the bait and took a step backwards. So did Aello, putting distance between her and Hip. Aello gripped the edge of her shield through its cover and bent forward and down as fast as she could, heaving with all her might. The shield flew straight ahead, catching Hip hard in the chest, just under her throat. Hip gasped and collapsed backwards, the heavy shield landing on top of her.

Aello kept her sword pointed at Hip, keeping her covered as she leaned down, a hand on her knee to catch her breath. Hip was trying to reach her sword, which had fallen out of her hand, clattering a few feet away. It was useless. Hip couldn’t hope to reach it in time. Aello was sure at least one of Hip’s clavicles was broken. The shield weighed just under thirty pounds, and Aello had thrown it with all the strength she could muster.

Aello stepped on Hip’s outstretched hand. Hip winced, her face still covered by her hood.

“Tell Atanea I’m sorry I lived…” Aello panted, getting her breath back. “Honestly, I did not expect her to try this… but I have killed three acromantula in the last year, beat a dragon, and defeated another twenty-foot acromantula and survived it kicking me in the chest and breaking all my ribs… I guess I am just not that easy to kill.” Aello snorted. “It is funny… I am not staying anyway… I was coming back to tell her that.”

Aello was distracted by the sound of voices and feet. A group of chattering teens were coming through the turnstiles. They stopped at the sight of Aello and Hip, gawking stupidly at the swords. Beside them, the monitor was gawping. Aello was sure he had seen the entire fight. Aello glared and raised her sword towards them.

“Fuck off.”

They didn’t wait. The teens and monitor turned and scrambled back up the escalators. In spite of it all, Aello snorted with amusement as she watched the operator slowed by his awkward attempt to go up the down escalator.

Aello returned her attention to Hip. Hip was clutching her chest just below her throat, gasping in pain.

“Tell Atanea I have something for her. Some information. I know one who has found out how to beat death. He’s unlocked Herpo’s secret. Her deepest desire. In return I want my mother’s remains sent to Bulgaria. _Undamaged_. I will send an owl to tell Atanea where to send them.”

Aello took her foot off of Hip’s wrist. She picked up her shield, kicked Hip’s sword down onto the tracks, and headed off towards the escalators.

“Oye,” the Police Constable said, spying her from the top of the escalator. “Stop right—”

“ _Obliviate_ ,” Aello said lazily, flicking her wand at the him. The policeman stopped in his tracks, his eyes going out of focus, and a lazy smile coming over his face. Aello kept walking past him onto the sidewalk.

“What… what was I doing… how did I get here?” she heard him mutter behind her as she rounded the corner into an alley.

## * * * *

Professor Cato felt a bit diminished inside as he and Marius walked away from the tube station. He remembered, all too well, Aello’s first day at Mount Phoenix. That was when he still taught Potions, before becoming Headmaster. He’d never forget that look of determination in her face, her drive to be the absolute best in everything she tried. And if she couldn’t be the best, then to at least do her absolute best.

At first, Professor Cato had just thought it was part of her natural upbringing as an Amazon, but as he got to know her over the years he realized it was something deeper. It was something engrained deeply in Aello herself: an unstoppable need to prove herself.

Professor Cato sighed.

“She’s going to be okay,” Marius said.

Professor Cato smiled down at his son. “I know, my boy… I know.”

“I’m going to miss Aello,” Marius admitted. “She always looked out for me, and stuck up for me…”

“Aello is an incredible woman,” Professor Cato agreed.

“Quite so.”

Professor Cato froze. He knew that voice all too well. It was a voice he dreaded.

“Lord Darius…” Professor Cato muttered, before slowly turning to face the ancient vampire lord who now stood in the dim light of a streetlamp behind them.

He wore a sharp, black tuxedo, complete with a top hat, a blood-red cummerbund, and was leaning on a heavy, silver cane. The aged vampire was grinning at him, his upper face clouded in shadow by the brim of his top-hat. His glinting black eyes were just visible, as were his far too prominent canines and sharp incisors. Professor Cato’s eye twitched at the sight of the teeth. They were Marius’ teeth.

Lord Darius smiled his sly smile that always gave Professor Cato a chill.

“And how is my great-nephew?” Lord Darius asked as he turned his gaze down to Marius.

“Fine, Great-Uncle Darius,” Marius replied.

Professor Cato sniffed. The look of affection Lord Darius had for Marius unsettled him. It had nothing to do with the fact that Lord Darius was a vampire. It was Professor Cato’s uneasy feeling that Lord Darius only saw Marius’ mother’s side when he looked at his great-nephew.

“What can I do for you, Darius?” Professor Cato asked.

Lord Darius turned his glinting black eyes up to Professor Cato.

“You? Nothing, my dear man.”

At that moment, a group of teens passed, heading down into the underground station. Lord Darius chuckled darkly, watching them go.

“What…?” Professor Cato asked, suspiciously.

“They’re about to run into an interesting sight… your prize pupil is in the middle of a sword duel with another of her kind. By the sound of her attacker, I think this is meant to be to the death.”

“What?!” Professor Cato gasped.

He reached for his wand but Lord Darius held up a hand. The old vampire’s head was cocked to the side, his eyes narrowed as he listened hard.

“No, no… no need. She won. Your faith in her is entirely justified,” Lord Darius confirmed, smiling pleasantly.

Professor Cato tightened his lips, sliding his wand back into his pocket.

“Why was Aello fighting another amazon?” Marius asked.

Lord Darius shrugged. “Who can say? They are an odd breed. Speaking of breeds… you know why I’m here, Aelius.”

Professor Cato’s hand gripped a little tighter on Marius’ shoulder.

“Yes… I know…”

“Know what?” Marius asked.

Lord Darius smiled kindly at his great-nephew. “Why, you are coming of age in the vampire world, my boy. It is time you learned how to live amongst your own kind.”

Marius looked up at his father. “You mean…?”

“I mean that you are to remain here in Britain with me.”

“We never agreed to that,” Professor Cato growled.

“Unfortunately, it is not entirely your say. Marius will begin undergoing his changes soon. He may be a dhampir, but—” Darius was interrupted as the teens went running back past them, terror on their faces. Darius cleared his throat. “—the vampire in him is still evident. He will start to hunger soon. He needs to learn what it is to be a vampire, and to deal with the changes that are going to be affecting him soon.”

Lord Darius slipped his hand into his jacket pocket and drew out a roll of parchment. He held it out to Professor Cato.

“I have already done all the proper paperwork with Lady Janna, head of your area’s coven.”

“You don’t own him, Darius,” Professor Cato said, moving between Lord Darius and his son. “You’re not taking my son away from me, like you took Vita…”

Lord Darius’ eyes narrowed. “I did not take Vita away… your wife volunteered to help drive out the remnants of The Nameless One’s forces. She wanted to avenge her father. And if you think I felt nothing at the loss of my only brother’s only child, you are gravely mistaken…”

“Father…?”

Professor Cato looked down at his son. He had been about to begin berating Lord Darius but the look on his son’s face disarmed him at once.

“I… I want to stay, father.”

Professor Cato’s heart sank.

“You… you do?”

Marius nodded. “Yes, father… I’m the only one of my kind at Mount Phoenix. I… I need to learn, don’t I?”

Professor Cato tightened his lips, fighting down his emotions. This night was already taking the closest thing he knew to a daughter. Now it was trying to take his son?

Lord Darius leaned forward on his cane. “Yes, you do, my dear boy. I promise you, Aelius, I am not stealing him away. He may visit you anytime he wishes, and you may visit in turn. He’s just going away to school, as many of the other children in your own school do.”

“You are keeping him here, where You-Know-Who has returned,” Professor Cato retorted.

“Who better then to prepare him for what is to come than a vampire who just celebrated turning sixteen hundred fourteen?” Lord Darius chuckled, indicating his tuxedo. “And his contingent of Horsemen?”

Professor Cato sighed. There was nothing Lord Darius could say that he could trust, but he wasn’t going to tell his son no.

“All right,” Professor Cato said.

“He can travel home with you for the summer,” Lord Darius said. “He will begin schooling at Rathlin in the fall.”

“Rathlin?!” Marius asked, stepping past his father, looking up at Lord Darius with disbelief and excitement in his eyes.

“Yes indeed, my dear boy, I have already arranged it with Sherrod. You will attend the night-classes with the other part-humans there. Other vampires, merfolk, fae…”

“Father!” Marius exclaimed, spinning around and holding the front of Professor Cato’s jacket, shaking it in his excitement. “Rathlin! I am going to go to Rathlin! I can learn how to play even better there!”

Professor Cato did his best to smile. Despite his apprehensions, who was he to keep his son from his true passion? How readily he remembered playing the piano for Vita, her swollen belly pressed against the side of the piano so little developing Marius could hear true art. Little Marius, named for his deceased vampire grandfather…

“All right,” Professor Cato agreed. “All right…”

He turned a scathing eye on Lord Darius. “Just do not make me have to bury my son as well…”

## * * * *

Ludo Bagman was having the night of his life. He was free. After so long he was finally free. Every knut of his debt to the goblins was forgiven. He’d beaten them at their game.

Harriet Potter had reached the Tri-wizard cup first. That had been the conditions of their bet. One or two had tried to cheat him, saying that Solomon Kinney—disguised as Cedric Diggory—had gotten there first when he turned the cup into a portkey, but their leader Orgnak couldn’t ignore the fact Kinney was not in fact a Triwizard Champion, and so even if he had touched the cup it would have meant nothing.

He had to give Orgnak credit. Bagman didn’t think he would have been so ready to let go of so many galleons were he in the goblin’s shoes. He supposed finally receiving his brand new American-made wand had put him in an unusually good mood.

Bagman hummed loudly to himself as he meandered down Diagon Alley. It was almost midnight. High time he started heading back for home. He drew his wand to Disapparate, and promptly dropped it.

“Whoops-a-daisy,” Bagman chuckled drunkenly as he tried to bend down to pick up the wand.

He supposed he would have to take the Knight Bus home. Bagman managed to get hold of the wand and rose. He stared for a moment at the figure that was now standing in front of him, only a few feet away.

It took a moment for the surprise to hit Bagman and he jumped. “Blimey, where’d you come from?”

“Sorry, Mr Bagman,” the man said in a rough voice.

The start had brought Bagman a bit more to his senses. The man in front of him was having trouble breathing, and had a slightly stooped posture. He was wearing a long, tattered coat, and his hair was dishevelled.

“I don’ got any money,” Bagman lied.

“Don’t want money, Mr Bagman,” the man said and held out his right hand. As Bagman looked down at it, he realized the man was missing his left arm.

“I just wanted to shake your hand… I was a huge fan of yours back in the day. Still am. You were a legend sir… a legend.”

“Oh,” Bagman slurred, smiling a bit in relief. “Oh of course, always pleased to meet a fan.”

Bagman clasped the man’s hand tightly in his own. He was out of debt, and people were remembering his glory days. What could—

Bagman grunted. Something hit the centre of his chest, hard. He looked down and saw the man had stuck out the stump of his left arm, and there was a long, silver rod projecting from it, sticking straight into his chest.

The rod retracted, and Bagman could see it was a blade, its tip now red with Bagman’s own blood. His knees gave out. The world was starting to go grey as he fell to his knees on the hard cobbled street. His breathing was ragged.

Bagman was dead before his body hit the ground. Bart Crouch gazed down at the old Quidditch hero’s body. He felt hollow inside as he stared. He had meant it. He had been a huge fan of Ludo Bagman’s back in the day. So much so that he had once suggested to old Augustus Rookwood to try to recruit Bagman into the Death Eaters. He’d just killed one of his childhood heroes.

It was necessary. He had to prove himself. If he couldn’t be tough enough for Kinney, he couldn’t be strong enough to teach The Dark Lady and guide her on her path. He needed to cut all ties to his old life. He needed to finish Kinney’s last assassination for him, to prove he could do so without apprehension. He did not trust easily, Solomon Kinney.

Bart coughed. His lungs had not healed right after the damage Kinney had wrought on them. He clutched the stump of his left arm where the slender, folding blade had just retracted. It still pained him as well. It had only been two days since Kinney had hacked it off with a medieval hand-axe.

Bart walked towards the nearest alley. Diamanda was there waiting for him.

“It’s done…” Bart muttered, holding back another cough.

“Well done,” Diamanda said, and set a hand on Bart’s shoulder. “Still having trouble breathing?”

Bart gave her a condescending look. “Whatever gave you that idea?”

Diamanda ignored his snide comment. Instead she inspected the contraption on his arm. Bart had to give her credit, her technical knowhow with gadgets was astonishing. The spring-loaded wand holder she had made for Kinney was impressive, but it was a tinker-toy compared to the hidden blade she had installed on Bart’s severed arm. Bart was especially impressed at how quickly Diamanda had made it.

As she inspected her work, Bart studied Diamanda’s face. She was a unique beauty. Her features were sharp; her cheekbones high. He couldn’t be sure just how old she was. There weren’t many lines on her face just yet, but her hair was already mostly grey.

“Worked like a charm,” Diamanda observed.

“Of course, it did. You made it,” Bart said.

Diamanda gave him a cold look. Bart didn’t know why he got such a rise out of trying to flirt with Diamanda. Something about the way her eyes burned never failed to get him going.

Diamanda snorted. “Do it.”

Bart smirked, drew his wand, and aimed it into the sky. It was time to cause a little chaos.

“ _Morsmordre!”_

## * * * *

Laughter and shrieks of delight filled the air. Solomon Kinney smiled softly as he watched his son getting ready to board. Gideon had begged Solomon to ride with him, but he couldn’t. He had work to do.

People were giving him bemused looks as they passed. He supposed he did look rather odd in the long black coat, that had once been Mad-Eye Moody’s, when the temperature and humidity were both in the high eighties. It was an easy enough charm to make the coat cooler inside, and it stood out just enough to let his contact find him.

His eyes scanned the crowds as they bustled by. Ah, Muggles. So oblivious, but so industrious. They walked about completely unaware of the terrible war going on right under their noses, content to blame all the disasters on hurricanes, earthquakes, tornadoes, and wildfires.

And yet they built this place with their hands and minds. They erected structures that stretched hundreds and sometimes thousands of feet in the air with their hands and grit. They built bridges that spanned miles of open water and deep canyons. They could speak to one another in real time across the entire planet. Truth be told, Kinney was having a hard time differentiating Muggle engineering from magic anymore.

They were most industrious when they had to be, Kinney knew. Their so-called “World Wars” in particular. In 1937, the world’s air forces were starting to transition from chugging, piston-engined bi-planes to monoplanes. Only ten years later they broke the sound barrier in level flight. Ten years after that, they put an object in orbit around the Earth.

War.

War changes everything.

It was time the magical world got with the program. Thanks to Kinney, it already was; at least here in the US. It seemed like only yesterday he was masquerading as a civilian in one of those little hold-out towns in North Dakota.

That was all it took. One little curse. One dead Secessionist soldier, and the kindling was lit. Then a single bomb in a Muggle sports stadium in Chicago, and the fire became an inferno.

It would be coming to Europe soon. It was inevitable now. Voldemort was back. The British Ministry was eating itself trying to cover its ass in the fallout of the raid on Rathlin Island. The Aurors who had carried out the raid on Rathlin Academy had been sent to Azkaban, right alongside their latest catch, Sherrod Howe and his lackey, Jefferson Watkins.

The Magical ministry had worked with the Muggle ministry to blame the attack on the Provisional Irish Republican Army, a paramilitary force from the little nation of Ireland. They were calling it a chemical attack, one which caused the loss of memory in all the students of Rathlin Academy of the Arts. As a result, relations between Ireland and the United Kingdom were strained to the breaking point.

Ripples in a pond. A single curse. That was all it had taken. A single curse and the world was on the brink. What new changes were going to come from this? How was the world going to mould itself anew?

Kinney’s right ear twitched under the brim of his hat. His contact was coming. His ear popped back into a human form as he turned and smiled into the sweating face of Lucius Malfoy.

Malfoy dabbed his forehead, looking around the area with disgust. Kinney couldn’t help but curl his lips in amusement at the sight of proud, regal Lucius Malfoy in poorly chosen Muggle garb. He wore a pink Hawaiian shirt, yellow track pants, Birkenstock sandals and a wide, white, Panama hat.

“Seriously? Do you British wizards even _try_?” Kinney asked with amusement.

“Shut up,” Malfoy snarled. His eyes passed around the crowds, narrowed in disdain. “I can smell their stink…”

“I think that’s your own stink, judging by your pit-stains,” Kinney observed.

“Is that why you picked this place? So you could insult me where I couldn’t retaliate?”

“Mr Malfoy, do you really think there’s the slightest chance I’m afraid of you?”

Malfoy stared at Kinney, unable to tell if Kinney was bluffing or not. Malfoy seemed to err on the side of caution. It was a wise move; Kinney never bluffed.

Malfoy took a deep breath and spoke. “They say you do anything for money.”

“That depends very much on the ‘anything’ and the ‘money’.”

“He… the Dark Lord… he has my wife.”

Kinney raised his eyebrows. _So Voldemort’s taking family members of his Death Eaters hostage, now? Fascinating…_

“I suppose after Bart’s little stunt he’s having an even harder time trusting you _loyal_ Death Eaters than normal?” Kinney asked, dark amusement thick in his tone.

“‘ _After Bart’s little stunt’_ … you mean his little stunt _you_ facilitated!” Malfoy snarled. “You’re pulling every one of his little strings. Anyone with half a brain can see that!”

“Of course I am,” Kinney agreed. “I think even Bart knows that, and he’s quite happy with it, because he thinks it’ll get him what he wants. Bart’s a good boy… but his time in Azkaban and the years he spent under the Imperius Curse definitely loosened a few screws.”

Kinney leaned back on the railing around the ride. “So, Voldemort has taken your wife to ensure you don’t do exactly what—I’m guessing—you want to talk to me about doing. So… what is it you want me to do, Mr Malfoy?”

Malfoy’s jaw tightened. “The Dark Lord is… he is not himself. Something about him is off. He is… paranoid. He has occupied my house and sits in his room with his snake, muttering to all hours of the night—”

“And so you’ve lost faith in him…” Kinney observed.

“He lost me the moment he took my wife…”

Kinney cocked an eyebrow. “Really? I took Bart’s left arm and he has not yet abandoned me.”

Malfoy’s expression bore the slightest hint of amusement. “I know… I was there when we found it… but now—thanks to you—he thinks I cannot be trusted. He himself ordered me to pay you, and then turned around and blamed me for my ‘convenient’ absence during the vampire attack!”

Kinney smiled darkly. “I imagine so. So, you want me to free your wife…”

“Of course I want you to free my wife!”

“Yes, but what do I get in return? That is an acceptable ‘anything,’ but now we need to talk the ‘money’.”

Malfoy’s throat tightened. He reached into his pocket and drew out a slip of parchment, handing it as discretely as he could to Kinney. Kinney took it and read. Another amused smile curled his lips as he read the figure.

“Oh, Mr Malfoy… this isn’t nearly enough.”

“But—”

“Not all ‘money’ is money, Mr Malfoy,” Kinney said, tearing the parchment into little bits and letting it fall to the ground. At once, a flock of pigeons fluttered down, pecking at the pieces, hoping to find bits of food.

“Then what is your price?” Malfoy asked.

“You want me to provide you a service… you want your wife back… hmmm…” Kinney’s smirk grew. “Then I want a service from your son.”

Malfoy spluttered. “What?! I’m not trading my son for—”

“Oh no, no, no, Mr Malfoy,” Kinney shook his head. “You misunderstand. I’m not interested in a hostage. They’re tedious and messy. But I need eyes on the ground inside Hogwarts. The Ministry is going to start taking the place over soon; I need to know what’s happening.”

“Why my son?” Malfoy asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Because you won’t be able to run to the Ministry and win their favour by telling them I’m spying on Hogwarts without incriminating your own son.”

Malfoy snarled. “I thought you said my son wouldn’t be a hostage…”

“Oh good!” Kinney grinned. “You _do_ get it! It gets boring always dealing with people too stupid to realize they’re being played. But I wouldn’t classify him as a hostage… I think collateral would be the more appropriate term.”

“Once my wife is free, Draco is also free?” Malfoy half-asked, half demanded.

“Of course.”

“How soon will it be done?” Malfoy asked.

“As soon as feasible,” Kinney replied.

Malfoy opened his mouth as anger washed over his face again but Kinney held up a hand to stop him.

“Your wife is important to you, Mr Malfoy, correct? Then you should not care how quickly it is done. It is more important to you that this is done right, not fast.”

Malfoy slowly closed his mouth.

“Yes…”

“Good, then we have an accord. I have no other plans at present, so I shall set myself fully to finding and freeing your wife. In return, Draco is to send me weekly reports on everything going on in Hogwarts, no matter how small.”

“Where shall he send the owls?”

“You let me and Draco worry about that,” Kinney grinned. “He’s my employee now.”

Kinney could tell Malfoy was aching to draw his wand and try to curse Kinney into oblivion. _He can try_ , Kinney thought, _but it will be a mistake._

“But I am not unreasonable. I will even throw some sugar on the deal. Hogwarts once had Hogsmeade weekends. The town should be rebuilt shortly, and I’m sure they’ll resume those. They’ll want to make everything appear as ‘back to normal’ as possible.

“On those weekends, I will meet with Draco in Hogsmeade and teach him what I know. I will make him a match for any of your precious Dark Lord’s Death Eaters. I will have him train with Bart as well… he’ll teach Draco everything to know about Death Eaters. You get your wife back, I get eyes on the inside at Hogwarts, and your son learns advanced, powerful magic to defend himself from what’s to come. I’d say you’re coming out ahead when all is said and done. Is that acceptable?”

Malfoy’s look softened. Kinney could tell this certainly was acceptable to him. Slowly, and reluctantly, Malfoy held out his hand. Kinney shook it. As they shook, he couldn’t help but notice Malfoy’s eyes widen at the sight of Kinney’s slightly red right hand. He still had not quite been able to get the blood off of it after dealing with Bart’s unartful amputation. Not that he had been trying very hard.

Malfoy let go of Kinney’s hand quickly. He turned and walked off behind a nearby concession area. As soon as he was out of sight, Kinney heard the loud crack. No one else jumped. Kinney was sure they thought it just the popping of a balloon.

Behind him, the ride began to slow. _Perfect timing_ , Kinney thought. He grinned as Gideon came running towards him.

“That was great, Papa!”

“Excellent!” Kinney laughed, kneeling and hugging Gideon tight. “What ride do you want to go on next?”

“Over there!” Gideon said, pointing over towards Magic Kingdom. “I wanna go on Space Mountain! Some of the other kids in line were talking about it!”

“Of course,” Kinney grinned.

Together, Kinney and Gideon headed off towards the venue.

Gideon gave his father a hopeful little look. “Would… would you go with me this time?”

Kinney sighed, sadly. “Oh, I don’t know, my boy… I think I’m a bit too old for this sort of thing.”

“Nuh-uh, Papa!” Gideon declared. “You’re like the strongest guy in the world!”

Kinney laughed. “Well how could I possibly say no to that?”

“Awesome!” Gideon grinned, taking Kinney’s hand and starting to run towards the venue.

“Oof, hold on,” Kinney said, stumbling a bit, staggering.

“What’s wrong, Papa?” Gideon asked, worry all over his face.

“Something super heavy… holding me down…” Kinney grunted, acting as though there was a great weight upon his left side. “Can’t… stay standing…”

Gideon blinked with worry as Kinney reached into his left pocket, giving a few overly exaggerated tugs before yanking out a letter. He doubled over once more, pressing the letter to the ground, as though it still weighed a tremendous amount.

“Whew, this is a heavy letter, my boy… it must not be addressed to me,” Kinney observed as Gideon looked on with confusion. “Why… would you look at that? It seems to be addressed to you…”

“To me?!” Gideon asked, staring with wonder. “No one’s ever sent me a letter before…”

“Well, now they have…” Kinney chuckled. “Maybe only you can pick it up?

Gideon knelt down. Kinney let go of the letter and stood to his full height. As he did, his back cracked and he winced. He was getting a bit old for this, wasn’t he?

Gideon picked up the letter and read the front. “Gideon Hithersbee? But my last name isn’t—”

“It is for now,” Kinney smiled. “Your real last name would make people a little suspicious, wouldn’t it?”

“P-people where…?” Gideon asked.

“Open it and see,” Kinney smiled.

Gideon opened the letter. As he read, his face began to glow with surprise and delight. “Hogwarts!” Gideon exclaimed. “I’m going to Hogwarts?!”

“You are,” Kinney laughed, staggering back as Gideon threw his arms around Kinney tightly.

“I’m going to be with other kids my age and study magic and everything?”

“And everything,” Kinney replied, hugging Gideon back. “You’ll have to pretend Diamanda is your mother, of course.”

“Of course,” Gideon said. “Thank you, Papa… thank you…”

“You’re welcome, Gid…”

“I love you, Papa.”

“I love you, too, Gid.”

## * * * *

A catastrophe. An utter catastrophe. That was all Fudge could think as he shook hands with the tall young man before him. He did not know who had put it in the mind of his Aurors to wipe _all_ of the Muggle children’s memories, but it was the biggest disaster of his career.

He would never forget the look on Dolores’ face as she came to him after the event. _I tried, Minister, I tried to stop them, but they just wouldn’t listen. All those poor children, their minds gone forever!_

Fudge should be celebrating. Dumbledore was gone, and Howe was in Azkaban along with his sidekick, Watkins. The grievous threat to magical secrecy that was Rathlin Academy was now closed. Instead, Fudge had the heads of at least a dozen foreign governments breathing down his neck. The Aurors had wiped the memories of nearly six-hundred muggles _and_ squibs. Gringotts was threatening to leave Britain altogether for the USA, where they were about to be given wand rights.

 _Wand rights?_ To Goblins? This was just madness. On top of that, there was the murder of Ludo Bagman the very same night. Not only that, but whoever had done so had cast the Dark Mark over the body. Now, while the _Prophet_ was still willing to go along with Fudge’s story that Kinney was making it look like You-Know-Who was back just to scare people, many of the smaller papers were starting to buy Dumbledore and Howe’s ridiculous lies. Even the _Quibbler_ was producing record sales. Xenophilius Lovegood had been forced to rent a building and more printing presses to keep up with demand. The _Quibbler_!

Now he was dealing with the fallout of the Vampires. They had closed their office in Whitechapel to the Ministry, and were refusing to open it again until Fudge accepted that You-Know-Who was back—on no evidence whatsoever—and Fudge apologised for attempting to have the head of their coven arrested.

What was happening to the world? Everything was being turned upside down because of this damned war in America. For years, everything was quiet; peaceful. Now a representative of everything that was crumbling Fudge’s happy little world was standing in front of him, looking down on him with cold, accusatory eyes, as if everything happening was somehow Fudge’s fault.

Fudge wasn’t entirely sure what the fuss was about in the first place. Most of them were just muggles, after all. They did not even fall under any of the magical governments’ jurisdictions. The Americans, however, were the most outspoken and angry on the matter. While most of the Obliviated children had been British, the second highest number had been American. And despite their being Muggle, the MACUSA and President Shensuken were most displeased.

And so that was how Fudge found himself standing in his office, face to face with an American war hero who had been sent with a delegation of witches and wizards from around the International Confederation of Wizards to ‘monitor the situation.’ The man was young, mid to late-twenties at most, and dressed in a smart, military uniform.

His eyes were sharp, and smart, darting around studying every detail of Fudge’s office. He had a strong jaw, which looked even more prominent from a five o’clock shadow. His hair was a crew cut, just growing back from having been shaved. 

“Well, I must say, Captain Kane, tales of your exploits in the papers certainly keep us on our toes, even over here in Britain.”

“Thank you, sir,” Captain Kane replied.

His voice was curt and harsh, as if he generally spoke in a tone no quieter than a roar. He was an officer, Fudge knew, and a decorated combat veteran. He must be better acclimated to shouting orders over the pitch of battle than chatting in quiet offices.

“I… I must say, I’m surprised the ICW put this team together so quickly,” Fudge said. “It’s only been a week… and I would think the ICW would send… well… a rather less partial delegation… considering…”

Captain Kane’s eyes were boring into Fudge’s. “Your Aurors wiped the memories of six-hundred and seventeen children in under an hour, Mr Fudge,” Captain Kane said coldly. “Six-hundred seventeen. One hundred thirty-two of them were Americans. Muggles and Squibs. I want to be very clear with you on those numbers, because based on your comments in the newspapers, you haven’t quite grasped that.”

Fudge’s knuckles whitened on the arms of his chair.

“Squibs fall under magical jurisdiction, Mr Fudge. Your Aurors Obliviated foreign citizens. People who trusted them for their protection. And even if Muggle’s don’t fall under our jurisdiction… I’m sure you’ll forgive us for feeling a bit… _united_ with our fellow Americans in the wake of this tragedy…”

Fudge did his best to keep his feelings down. It was as though Kane had read his mind. Howe and Dumbledore always did the same thing.

“Furthermore, the ICW is concerned over how close this comes to a breach of the International Statute of Secrecy,” Captain Kane went on. “They are concerned over how many Muggle governments are trying to look into what happened.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” Fudge conceded. “I must also say I’m surprised they sent you, of all people, Captain. I imagine there are far more pressing matters with the war for you to handle.”

“President Shensuken hand-picked me, Mr Fudge,” Captain Kane replied. “He knew about my sister. And… I think they’re looking to give me a furlough as much as getting to the bottom of what went wrong. After Bakersfield, they’re worrying I might be losing my edge. They sprinkled a lot of sugar on top of it, but I’ve dealt with enough ‘command’ to read through orders.”

Fudge was trying to think fast. He had to buy himself time until he could get to the bottom of this, himself. He had to show the ICW that he was still in control of this situation.

“Well, I’m certainly not going to be the one to interfere with the ICW’s investigation,” Fudge said. “Nor to try and strain relations with the MACUSA any more than it already has been.”

“Hm,” Captain Kane muttered.

Fudge felt even more frustrated, having no idea what Captain Kane meant by that response. Fudge sighed and sank into his chair. It was time to try one of the older tricks in his book.

He needed to disarm Captain Kane; get him to see reason. While it was often best to show strength and conviction, Fudge did find it useful sometimes to look quite the opposite, to appear human and relatable. It tended to get people to put their guards down, so they could better be reasoned with (and manipulated if need be, like Fudge needed right now).

“How is your sister, Rachel, incidentally?” Fudge asked. “I haven’t had time to visit Hogwarts since this debacle began.”

Captain Kane raised his eyebrows.

 _Oh yes,_ Fudge thought, _I know who your sister is. I remember all their names. There are more than a few things about my time in office I’m not proud of, but no one is going to take helping those children away from me. No one_.

“She sounded well, the last time she wrote me, Mr Fudge,” Captain Kane said. He sounded more relaxed, pleased to talk about his sister.

“Excellent,” Fudge said, allowing himself a shadow of a smile.

“Though she was upset about finally seeing our brother, Blaine.”

“Oh…?” Fudge asked. “You’d… you’d think that would cheer her.”

“Not after Bakersfield, Mr Fudge.”

“I see… he was there… was he?”

“Yes, sir. He lost an eye there. And mentally, he’s… no one who entered that battle came back out again.”

Fudge blinked a couple times. He wasn’t sure exactly what Captain Kane meant by that.

“I see… yes… terrible battle, Bakersfield… terrible…” Fudge shook his head.

Hundreds had died in that battle, according to reports. By the end of the fighting, combatants were reduced to bludgeoning each other with any blunt instrument they could get their hands on as weapons.

“I know, sir,” Captain Kane said, his tone cold. “I was there.”

Fudge tried not to grimace. This was going from bad to worse. He needed his secret weapon to salvage this. He had been building this ever since he received word that Captain Kane would be leading the ICW team.

Fudge sighed again, leaning forward on his desk. “I’m not going to lie to you, Captain Kane, the situation here in Britain has been stressed. We brought those children here, and it brought your war to our shores with them.”

Captain Kane said nothing to this. His face seemed to have no tells as he looked back into Fudge’s eyes. _Certainly not someone to play chess with_ , Fudge thought. But Fudge had his hook, and he was going to give it a tug.

“Solomon Kinney came here… and we have reason to suspect that not only was the former headmaster of our prestigious magical school, Hogwarts, working with him, but so was the headmaster of Rathlin Academy. Things at Rathlin… they… they got out of hand. No one is going to deny that. But right now, Magical Britain needs your help, not accusations. Dumbledore is still at large, as is Solomon Kinney.”

Fudge gave another sigh for dramatic effect. “We are afraid that certain staff at Hogwarts are still in league with Dumbledore. We believe they may be trying to train the students into a sort of resistance movement…”

“I see.”

“Our suspicions were aroused when the current Headmistress hired the brother of Dumbledore to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts. Not only is he the brother of this fugitive, but he has his own criminal history. Needless to say, we intervened to have him removed as a teacher forthwith. I have placed a few trusted members of my staff in the school, including my own undersecretary.”

“I see.”

Fudge gripped his hands tighter on the arms of his chair. Captain Kane’s attitude was so passive it was impossible to tell what he was really thinking. It was like trying to derive meaning out of a blank canvas.

“I have provisionally placed my undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, in that position, however… if you and your government would find it agreeable, I would like to offer the position to you.”

Captain Kane raised an eyebrow. Fudge still wasn’t sure what it meant, but he had at least coaxed something of a reaction out of the man.

“And why would you want to offer this position to me, Mr Fudge?”

 _Damn_ , Fudge thought, _he’s still suspicious_.

“You’re a decorated soldier, Captain Kane,” Fudge explained. “Your knowledge would certainly be highly valued amongst the students. Plus, there’s the added benefit of being able to see your sister daily.”

Captain Kane said nothing, but Fudge could tell he was digesting this information thoroughly. Captain Kane leaned back in his chair.

“I will have to clear this with the MACUSA and the ICW, of course,” Captain Kane said.

Fudge felt himself click his heels together in his mind. _I’ve got him_ , Fudge thought, feeling a deep sense of relief.

“Of course, Captain, of course,” Fudge conceded. “You’ll be working very closely with the Ministry on this, which is why you are here in the first place, is it not?”

“Yes, Mr Fudge, it is.”

Fudge pulled over two glasses and his whisky decanter. He poured them each two fingers. Captain Kane lifted his glass and sniffed it.

“Hmm, this is Muggle, isn’t it?” Captain Kane asked, glancing up at Fudge.

Fudge raised his eyebrows, impressed. Captain Kane must have quite the refined palette.

“Correct,” Fudge smiled. “Bell’s is the brand. Quite popular amongst the Muggles, I’m told. I first picked it up from the previous Muggle Prime Minister. Strong woman, she was. I remember the night I introduced myself to the one who took her place. He tried to throw me out the window!”

Captain Kane’s face did not even make the slightest hint of a smile. Fudge cleared his throat awkwardly and raised his glass to Captain Kane.

“To cooperation.”

Captain Kane clinked his glass against Fudge’s.

“Cooperation.”

## * * * *

Newt Scamander wiped his forehead in the summer heat. It was the middle of July, and a drought had hit the London area, lasting so long that the city’s Muggle government had banned the use of hosepipes until it passed. He was already irritable; his arthritis was acting up. It had gotten so bad over the last few years that Newt had been forced to retire his rehabilitation service. He took a forlorn glance at his old suitcase. So many wonderful memories.

Tina was sound asleep upstairs. Newt’s lumbago was making it harder and harder for him to sleep at night. During all his years of dedicating himself to the care of animals, Newt had forgotten to take care of himself in the process.

Newt sipped his tea. It was hot, which didn’t help in the heat, but he could feel the soothing effect on his joints.

His eyes popped open as Tina’s guest detector jingled. Newt stared at it. Surely no one was calling on them at this time of night. The little bell bounced and jingled again on its hook. Newt got to his feet, and shuffled towards the door. No sooner had he reached it than there was an urgent knock on the door.

“Mr Scamander? Mr Scamander are you in?”

Newt opened the door. He found himself face to face with a young, rather stricken looking Auror. Newt was quite taken aback. It was the youngest Auror he had ever seen. He looked to be barely out of school. The Ministry must have become desperate for new blood after the Rathlin calamity. The Auror’s face broke into relief.

“Oh good, you are. I’m so sorry to trouble you at this time of night, Mr Scamander, but—”

“Who is it, darling?” Tina called from the stairs.

“An Auror, Tina,” Newt called back.

“—but we need your help, badly, sir… We’d have asked Sutler, but he’s gone abroad it seems. And no one else has your expertise, which we think is—er—relevant.”

“A creature?” Newt asked, as Tina bustled up, tying the knot to her robe’s belt.

“It’s… we think…” the Auror swallowed. “We think it might have been an Obscurus…”

Newt’s heart sank. An Obscurus? On top of everything else that was going on? Newt felt Tina grip his arm. They shared a dark glance.

An obscurus was the result of a magical child (known as an obscurial) being forced to repress their magic completely, often through the combination of self-loathing and systematic mental and physical abuse. As a result, they were most often muggle-borns, born to areas that misunderstood and feared magic.

Their magic became sort of a parasitic entity, draining the child of their life and at the same time unleashing terrible destruction upon the world, built upon the obscurials internal torments and rage. Newt had dealt with them only twice before, once in the Sudan, and once in New York City. Both instances ended in tragedy.

“We’ll be right with you,” Newt said. “Please let us get dressed.”

“Oh, you don’t have to come, Miss,” the young Auror said to Tina. “We didn’t want to bother you.”

Tina gave the Auror a cold look. “Judging by the Ministry’s recent antics and your age, I’m going to hazard a guess that I have more experience as an Auror than your whole department put together.”

Tina hurried back up the stairs. Newt smiled after her fondly before returning his attention to the young Auror, who was now giving him a rather insistent look. Suddenly, Newt remembered.

“Oh, right! Me dressed too! Back in a flash!”

Twenty minutes later, Newt, Tina, and the young Auror popped onto the street. They were in the midst of organized chaos. Aurors were everywhere. By the looks of things, Tina was right. All of the Aurors looked much too young.

This was not all that Newt could tell was wrong. At a glance, he quickly saw there was no damage done to any of the surrounding buildings or the street. There were reporters for the _Daily Prophet_ and several other magical newspapers as well. They were all doing their best to get information out of the Aurors who had cordoned off the area.

“It’s over here,” the Auror said, and his face turned rather green. “You… it’s not pretty…”

The Auror gestured towards a nearby alley. The Aurors blocking the entrance parted to make room for the trio to enter. Newt held Tina’s hand as they followed the young man towards the scene. Once inside the alley, Tina stifled a gasp, and Newt cringed.

Blood. Blood was everywhere. It was splattered up the walls of the buildings, and spread over the street beneath their feet. What on earth had happened here?

“The bodies are over here, Mr Scamander,” the Auror blanched, clearly doing his best to fight off a wave of queasiness.

Newt gave Tina’s hand a squeeze. She returned it. The couple continued to follow the Auror. There were six sheets covering odd, misshapen forms lined along one of the alley walls. One or two of them still bore passing resemblance to a human. Even worse, the forms all looked small. They couldn’t have been more than teenagers. Whatever had done this, Newt was already certain it was no Obscurus.

“Well, from here I can tell you this was no Obscurus,” Newt said.

“How can you tell?” the Auror asked, his voice a mix of apprehension and interest.

Tina pointed around to the buildings on either side of them. “No damage,” she said. “Obscuri tend to destroy everything they touch.”

“Exactly,” Newt said. “If the damage was only to the victims, this was much too concentrated to be an Obscurus.”

Newt finally released Tina’s hand. They walked to the first body, which looked the most whole. They moved around either side of it and knelt. Newt and Tina each took a hold of the top of the sheet, gave each other bolstering looks, and pulled back the sheet.

Newt’s stomach turned at once. There was a head where a head was supposed to be, but it had just been placed there by the Aurors. It was detached from the body completely. The face was contorted with terror. By the looks of the remains of the neck, the head had been ripped from the body.

“No… Obscuri are forces of anger, repressed magic made manifest… this… this is something else…”

Newt pulled the sheet back farther. The arms were contorted violently; he was sure all of the bones were broken. However, there was something interesting of note. Newt lifted one of the shattered arms. There was a very large hand-print on it, where a hand much larger than a human’s had grabbed hold with terrible force. The hand had to be at least twice as large as a human’s. What’s more, the hand was all wrong. The palm was much too large in proportion to the fingers. It wasn’t a human that had done this.

“No, this definitely wasn’t an Obscurus,” Newt confirmed, lowering the sheet again.

“That one was named Piers Polkiss,” the Auror said. “According to the witnesses.”

“There were witnesses?” Tina asked.

The Auror nodded. “Two of them. Boy and a girl. Boy’s a muggle. Over this way. We’re keeping a watch on the girl in case she’s the one.”

Newt grunted as Tina helped him stand again. His knees popped a couple of times, but he leaned on his walking stick heavily and they moved to the next body. On this one, the head was still attached, but the throat had been ripped out by jaws and incredible strength, and teeth of a most impressive size.

Newt ran a hand through his wispy hair. If he didn’t miss his guess, based on the strength, the size of the hand-print, and the size of the bite on the second body, they were dealing with a primate. Except the only primate Newt knew of that fit this size and strength was a gorilla, but gorilla were passive, gentle creatures. This level of aggression was more typical of chimpanzees. Furthermore, where would it have come from?

“Let’s talk to the witnesses,” Newt said, lowering the sheet back down over the second body.

Tina held Newt up to his full height once more and they resumed following the Auror to the other end of the alley.

“How old?” Tina asked.

“Boy’s fifteen, girl’s fourteen,” the Auror said.

Newt narrowed his eyes. “That’s much too old…” Newt muttered. He had only seen an Obscurus live that long once before, and it had destroyed sizeable areas of New York City.

“Well, not taking any chances,’ the Auror replied. “Not after Rathlin.”

Newt grimaced. What could have done this? The damage done to the body he had looked at was incredible. It wasn’t just anger that had caused that damage; it was anger and hatred. But what’s more, whatever had done it clearly had a physical body.

Newt saw a boy now. The boy was large, but with obvious muscle underneath the puppy fat. He was being given a Calming Draught by the looks of it, as after he took a sip he seemed to deflate, sinking back against the wall.

“There, isn’t that better?” said the healer who had given him the draught in a sweet, gentle voice.

“Yeah,” the boy mumbled.

Newt moved over to the boy. He knelt and tried to look as kindly as he could.

“Hello, son,” Newt said. “Can you—we really need to know—please tell me what happened tonight?”

“The black… thing… it did it,” the boy said. His breathing became faster, and his pupils dilated as the memories of the event came back to him.

“What was it… did you see?” Newt asked.

“D-didn’t see,” the boy stammered. “Moved so fast… ripped them apart… bashed them into the… into…”

Newt staggered backwards, just fast enough to avoid the boy’s sick as it splattered the street. Newt grimaced. Maybe it would be better to ask the girl.

“Where’s the girl?” Newt asked.

“Over here,” the Auror replied, gesturing to a crowd of Aurors.

Newt furrowed his brow. There was some commotion coming from them. He noted that several of them were holding back a man in his thirties who looked to be in sheer panic.

“She’s not an Obscurial!” Newt could hear the man insisting. “Get your wands off her!”

Newt hurried as fast as his bad knees would let him.

“Let him through,” the Auror guide said as the Aurors moved to keep Newt and Tina away as well. “This is Mr Scamander and wife.”

The man who was trying to get through the Aurors spun around. Newt didn’t recognize him, but he had long black hair tied back in a ponytail, a silver hoop earring and a small soul-patch on his chin.

“Mr Scamander!” the man said running over to him. “Tell them to get their wands off her! She’s not an Obscurial!”

“I know she’s not,” Newt said calmingly. “This wasn’t an Obscurus, but I need to speak to her to find out what’s going on.”

Tina gave the Aurors a very dark look. “And we should add that if she _were_ and Obscurial, holding her at wand-point like this would be a good way to trigger the Obscurus, wouldn’t it?”

The Aurors all exchanged awkward looks. Slowly, they lowered their wands and parted. Newt’s heart fell at the sight of the girl. She looked no older than the boy, sitting huddled against the wall. The man moved to her so fast that Newt missed him when he blinked. The man broke down, hugging the girl tight to him and rocking her.

“Harriet, baby I’m so sorry… I’m so sorry… Daddy’s got you… Daddy’s got you now…”

“Yeah, that’s Harriet Potter,” their guide muttered. “She had been living with Muggle relatives until mid-June. That’s her cousin back there. She was taken from their house and sent to live with one, Arabella Figg, a squib who lives nearby. She was removed from her aunt and uncle’s place for abuse. They’re somewhere around. They were throwing such a fit we had to petrify them to keep them from causing more panic. But yeah, that’s why we… you know… thought… you know, given the state the boys were in, and if those Muggles were mistreating her… maybe that meant she’d become a… you know?”

The Auror was trying to sound apologetic. Newt sighed. He couldn’t blame the boy, he supposed. Precious little was known about Obscuri. Newt was the closest thing to an expert on them in the world. They were trying to be careful, but risked so much more in the process. Never mind how much more damage they must have done to Miss Potter’s state of mind in treating her as the guilty party.

Newt ambled over and winced as he knelt down by the pair. As he got a closer look at the girl, sadness welled up inside him. One of her eyes was black, and her lip was bleeding. There were cuts, scrapes, and bruises on her arms. The one of the shoulder straps of her tank top had been cut as though someone was trying to remove it. Newt glanced to her forehead. Sure enough, just visible through her tussled hair, was the lightning scar born only by Harriet Potter.

“Hello, Harriet,” he said kindly. “My name’s Newt. I’m not here to hurt you… I just want to know what happened.”

“It was him,” Harriet said in a cracked voice. “It was Kinney… it was Solomon Kinney… he killed them… all of them…”

Newt raised his eyebrows.

“Solomon Kinney did that?” Tina asked. “How, dear?”

“Harriet, this is my wife, Tina,” Newt said introducing them.

The girl didn’t respond. She just kept staring blankly, her green eyes vacant. The man slowly released Harriet, and let her lean back against the wall.

“He said the debt was repaid…” Harriet mumbled. “Said the debt was repaid… offered to kill Dudley… I told him no… and he said the debt was repaid… and left…”

Newt and Tina exchanged more glances. He didn’t know what to make of that.

“What debt?” the man asked.

Harriet shook her head. “I don’t know… the boys… they were attacking me… they jumped me when I walked into the alley… I snuck out… wanted to be alone—”

Harriet broke down again, burying her face into the man’s chest, sobbing apologies over and over again. The man hugged the girl tighter, shaking his head.

“It’s okay sweetie, this wasn’t your fault… you’re okay now… Daddy’s got you…”

Tina put a calming hand on the man’s shoulder.

“Could I have your name, dear?” Tina asked.

“Daniel… Daniel Dusk…” the man replied.

“You were an Auror, weren’t you?” Tina enquired. “You were at my retirement ceremony.”

Newt glanced up at Tina, smiling with pride. She had such a good memory for things like that. People, and faces. That as his Tina, she cared about people, empathized with them.

Newt’s memory worked rather differently. Newt remembered facts, bits of information. He could remember the proper mixture for an erumpent pheromone, but he would be hard pressed to remember the names, let alone the faces, of half the people he’s ever met. However, as he thought of Jacob, he smiled. There were certainly some faces he would never, ever forget.

“Y-yeah,” Daniel replied. He sniffed, loosening his grip on Harriet just enough to look in her eyes. “Go on, sweetie… we have to know what happened…”

Harriet slowly nodded. She took a shuddering breath and continued. “They were… they held me down… Piers…”

Harriet shuddered. Daniel hugged the girl again. The girl sobbed for a minute, before she regained her composure enough to speak again. She spoke haltingly, fumbling from thought to thought.

“He… Piers… started taking off his… they pulled at my clothes… and then Dudley… Dudley came… Dudley fought them… Piers pulled a knife… he was going to stab Dudley… then he came…” Harriet choked back another sob. “Kinney. He wasn’t Kinney though. He wasn’t human. He was big… and black… like a gorilla… he ripped them apart… he smashed them into the walls… then he turned back into a person… he… he held his wand on Dudley… offered to kill him… I said no… he said that… he said the debt was repaid, and he left…”

Newt shook his head. On the one hand, the poor girl wasn’t an Oscurial. On the other, she had been through something terrible that no one deserved to go through. Newt looked down and saw something in the girl’s lap. Some sort of muggle contraption by the looks of it.

“What’s that you have there?” Newt asked.

The girl stifled another sob as she looked down at the device. “My Walkman,” she managed to choke out. “They broke it… I was listening to it… I didn’t hear them… He gave it to me… it’s broken now…”

Newt tightened his lips. He had hoped to cheer her.

“It’s okay, sweetie,” Daniel said, stroking Harriet’s hair as he rested her head on his shoulder. “I’ll fix it for you right away…”

“I’m sure it was a nice gift, dear,” Tina said, putting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “Who gave it to you?”

“Finn,” the girl sobbed.

It was then that Newt noticed something sitting on the ground next to her. It was simple jar, full of a strange, shimmering substance. Newt recognized it as memories. What on earth was Harriet Potter doing out this time of night with a jar of memories?

“What’s that?” Newt asked, indicating the jar

Harriet reacted so quickly that Newt almost fell backwards in surprise. She spun and snatched up the jar, clutching it to her chest, as though Newt was going to try and take it from her.

“You can’t have him!” Harriet declared, her face turning from fear to defiant anger at once. “I’m keeping him safe! It was his last wish. He wanted me to keep him safe!”

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Newt said, soothingly. “No one’s going to take it from you.”

“It’s who, dear?” Tina asked, apprehension in her voice.

“It’s… it’s Finn…”


	2. Grimmauld Place

“True parents are not blood. True parents are love.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet couldn’t speak. She was numb; inside and out. She couldn’t feel. Her mind kept replaying everything over and over again. The graveyard. Voldemort rising from the cauldron. The Death Eaters. The vampire attack. Learning about Finn. The ambush. Kinney’s slaughter.

Feeling raged back into Harriet’s mind at that final thought. She covered her head with her arms and screamed, while at the same time trying not to scream. The result was Harriet making a garbled, groaning, howl. At once, she felt Daddy’s hands on her shoulder.

“Harriet, sweetie, it’s okay, Daddy’s got you…”

“Daddy,” Harriet whimpered, looking up at him. Panic was filling her. “They hurt me, and he killed them; they hurt me and they would have hurt Dudley and—”

Harriet was cut off by Daddy pulling Harriet into a tight embrace. “I know, baby, I know… I’m so sorry…”

“We can’t stay here,” Harriet heard the deep, but comforting voice of Kingsley Shacklebolt. “This place is too exposed.”

They were back at Mrs Figg’s. Harriet vaguely remembered them discussing getting Harriet to St Mungo’s, but they decided Mrs Figg’s was closer, and could be reasonably defended if the entire order was there.

By the looks of it, the entire Order was. The house was overflowing with people. Every single person Harriet could see had their wand out. They were waiting for an attack.

Sirius was sitting nearby. He wasn’t looking at Harriet. Instead, he was staring at the floor. Remus was standing near him, a hand on his shoulder, a sympathetic look on his face.

Harriet closed her eyes and buried her head into Daddy’s shoulder. She was starting to feel again. Her eye hurt as she pressed it against him, but she didn’t care.

The front door burst open. Everyone rounded, but immediately lowered their wands, looking relieved. Aurora had arrived.

Kingsley moved in front of her. “I’m sorry, what’s the—”

“Get the fuck out of my way, Kingsley!” Aurora snarled.

“Yes, Aurora,” Kingsley mumbled, stepping back out of her way.

Harriet held out an arm automatically. Aurora knelt and joined the hug.

“Oh Harriet, sweetie… are you alright? What did they do to you?”

Harriet couldn’t say anything.

“I’ll tell you tonight, Rora,” Daddy whispered.

“Do we have a plan?” Aurora asked, looking around.

“She can’t stay here,” Kingsley said. He sounded rather more composed now.  “Kinney was not here by accident…”

“No,” Remus agreed.

“Kinney?” Aurora asked. “How was he involved?”

“We’ll tell you later, Rora,” Daddy said, putting a hand on hers. “Harriet doesn’t need to hear more tonight… but Kinney was involved…”

“He must have been watching the place…” said a squeaky-voiced little wizard.

“How would he even know?” asked an austere witch in a green shawl.

“He knew because he spent an entire year undercover in the Ministry,” came the voice of Professor McGonagall. “And it’s _Pumpernickel_ , before you ask, Kingsley…”

“Yes, ma’am,” Kingsley said as Professor McGonagall strode in through the door which Aurora had left open.

“We are too stretched,” Professor McGonagall said. “We’re not strong enough to keep our eyes on both You-Know-Who and Kinney… we should have seen this coming. Kinney undoubtedly learned the Dursleys’ address while undercover in the Auror office. That just being a ‘for starters’ of what he knows.”

Everyone made room as Professor McGonagall began pacing. She was talking but Harriet wasn’t really listening. She was looking around the room. She only recognized about half the faces. The little wizard who had spoken before was named Dedalus… something. She had met him the first time she visited Diagon Alley.

Harriet blinked in surprise. The man the Aurors had brought, and his wife, were still there. Professor McGonagall noticed them at the same time.

“…Newt Scamander…?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“And Tina Scamander,” Newt said, introducing his wife.

“Yes,” Professor McGonagall said, shaking Tina’s hand. “I recall your time in the American Auror office.”

“So, this is some force to fight the returned Lord Voldemort?” Tina asked.

The room went very quiet.

“Yes,” Daddy said.

Everyone looked at him. Daddy glared at them all defiantly.

“They helped,” Daddy said. “And they could have just left but they chose to stay to see if Harriet is alright. They’re friends.”

“Very well,” Professor McGonagall said. “Welcome to the Order of the Phoenix.”

“Oh right, that was Albus’ old group!” Newt said cheerfully. “Remember that! Tried to get me to join but I was… my adventuring days were over…”

Newt trailed off, sounding saddened. Tina put a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“So, you’re all back together then?” Newt asked. “That’s fantastic. Someone has to be fighting the good fight, eh?”

The Order spun around as another knock came at the door.

“Pumpernickel,” the newcomer said. “Where’s the patient?”

“Oh, Hippocrates, you’re here,” Professor McGonagall said, sounding relieved. “She’s over here.”

Professor McGonagall gestured to Harriet. The healer was a kindly looking man, short and balding. He walked over to Harriet, carrying a briefcase.

“Hello, Miss Potter,” the man said, kneeling in front of Harriet and opening his case. “I’m Healer Smethwyck… Order of the Phoenix undercover at St Mungo’s.”

Harriet didn’t say anything. Healer Smethwyck didn’t seem to require a response.

“These might burn a little on the cuts and scrapes,” Healer Smethwyck explained. “But they’ll keep infections from forming…”

Harriet nodded, then winced as Healer Smethwyck dabbed some of the potion onto a cut on her thigh.

“Pumpernickel,” came yet another voice from the door. Harriet recognized this voice at once. It was Mrs Weasley. Harriet looked around to see Mr and Mrs Weasley crossing the threshold, further crowding the already cramped house.

“Oh, Harriet!” Mrs Weasley exclaimed. “Oh you poor thing! Will she be alright?”

“The injuries will heal,” Healer Smethwyck said. “That’s not what I’d worry about…”

“What do you mean?” Daddy asked.

“The trauma,” Healer Smethwyck said. “That’s a lot harder to heal… that’s going to need time. Time, and…” Smethwyck rubbed his bald-spot. “I’m going to recommend someone to you. He’s just returned from America… an old colleague of mine, Sebastian Bishop.”

The room went deathly quiet. Slowly, all faces turned to an Order member who Harriet didn’t recognize. She was average height, but pretty, with curly brown hair and a white flower over her left ear.

“Oh,” Healer Smethwyck said awkwardly. “Hello, Hannah, didn’t see you there…”

“That’s alright, Hippocrates… You’re right, Sebastian would help,” the woman named Hannah replied.

Daddy paused and picked up Harriet’s broken Walkman. “Arthur?” he asked.

“Yes, Daniel?” Mr Weasley asked.

Daddy held out the Walkman to him. “Could you… you’re better with Muggle things than well… any of us, I think.”

“Absolutely,” Mr Weasley smiled kindly, taking the Walkman.

“No point… Doesn’t even work at Hogwarts,” Harriet muttered.

“Well, let’s just see if we can do a little something about that,” Mr Weasley smiled.

“Thanks…” Harriet muttered. She was sincere, but she had a hard time sounding so.

Harriet started as Healer Smethwyck removed Harriet’s glasses, but then groaned as the soothing, familiar sensation of Bellknapp’s Brilliant Bump and Bruise Balm soothed her eye where she’d been hit as Smethwyck rubbed it over her blackeye.

The group of gathered Order members finally seemed to be calming down. Professor McGonagall sniffed.

“We need a plan,” Professor McGonagall said to the room at large. “Where can we send Harriet that is safe?”

“If Kinney knows about Privet Drive, he’ll know most anywhere else she’s stayed as well…”

“And now that Voldemort’s back, he’ll be setting up his own spies in the Ministry, and he’ll doubtless soon learn the same,” Tina chimed in. “That will be even easier for him now, after Rathlin…”

Professor McGonagall gave Tina an approving look.

“So, the safest place we can send Harriet is somewhere she hasn’t been before…” Professor McGonagall agreed.

Harriet blushed as Healer Smethwyck raised her shirt. He was rubbing the balm onto the bruise on her belly where one of the boys had kicked her. Mrs Weasley let out a horrified gasp at the sight.

From his chair, Sirius sighed.

“I know a place,” Sirius said. “At least it’ll do in a pinch. Might… have to do a spot of cleaning…”

Daddy and Remus both exchanged dark looks.

“That’s not necessary, Sirius…” Daddy said.

Sirius shrugged. “Best use I could ever think of putting it towards, except for kindling…”

“Very well, then… we will send an advance team to the location to scout it out,” Professor McGonagall agreed. “In the meantime, we will keep watch here.”

“Agreed,” Daddy said, before turning to Aurora. “Where are the girls?”

“With my parents,” Aurora said.

Harriet blinked. Aurora’s parents where here?

“Okay,” Daddy said. “That might be for the best for tonight…”

“The girls are happy, they missed their grands,” Aurora said. “I… haven’t told them what happened yet.”

“H-her room’s upstairs,” Mrs Figg finally managed to say. “We can get here upstairs and… and cleaned up… and…”

“Oh, Bella,” Daddy said, getting up and hugging Mrs Figg now.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” Mrs Figg sobbed.

“I’ll get Harriet upstairs,” Aurora said. “Come on, sweetie, we’ll get you a nice bath…”

## * * * *

One hot bath, fitful night’s sleep, an uneasy day in Mrs Figg’s sitting room, and a rather chilly ride on the back of Daniel’s broom stick later, they were standing in a dodgy, dingy street. Harriet could feel, more than hear, the bass of a stereo going in a nearby house.

Daniel and Aurora had both come here earlier in the day to inspect the house. They must have decided it would work in the meantime.

“Well, here’s our new home… for now…” Daniel muttered darkly.

Harriet didn’t say anything. The houses around them had a grimy, slummy feel to them. Many had at least one broken window. Most of the streetlamps were flickering. There were piles of bagged rubbish in front of most of the houses. At first glance, Harriet felt oddly at home in this place. It matched how she felt inside: dirty.

All around Harriet, the Order of the Phoenix stood. Their wands were drawn, their eyes on every dark corner of the street. Most of the Order of the Phoenix was there, plus some new faces.

There was of course Daniel, Sirius, and Remus. Aurora was standing on Harriet’s other side. She also recognized the woman called Tonks who had been rather taken with Remus. Kingsley Shacklebolt had returned, as had Dedalus Diggle. There was also Professor Spring, who was standing hand in hand with Sirius. Her warm, bubbly demeanour had managed to cheer Harriet ever so slightly.

Those Harriet had not met before were Elphias Doge, an aged, wheezy wizard. The witch in the green shawl was named Emmeline Vance. A middle-aged wizard with a square-jaw and straw-coloured hair named Sturgis Podmore. A witch with black hair and pink cheeks named Hestia Jones. Finally, the curly haired witch with the flower named Hannah Bishop had come as well.

Harriet returned her attention to the gap between houses eleven and thirteen. That’s where all the Order members seemed to be looking, anyway.

“Don’t worry,” Sirius said, his voice full of a grim humour, “on the inside it’s much worse…”

“Inside?” Harriet asked, looking up at him.

“It’s all clear.”

Harriet froze. She recognized that voice. Her first instinct was to draw her wand but Daniel must have noticed and put a calming hand on Harriet’s shoulder.

“It’s alright, this is the real one…”

_Clunk-clunk_

The sound chilled Harriet’s blood. She once thought that sound belonged to the real Mad-Eye Moody, but later learned it was truly Bartemius Crouch, Jr in disguise, using Polyjuice Potion. Harriet took a step back as that same, completely unwelcome figure stepped out of the darkness.

“You’re late,” the Mad-Eye grumbled.

Harriet shivered. The voice was so familiar, even though her mind was trying to tell her this had to be the real one. Daniel put an arm tighter around her shoulder.

“It’s okay,” Daniel said. “This is the _real_ Mad-Eye.”

“I’d damned well hope so,” this Mad-Eye grumbled. “Only so much more I could take being in that damned trunk.”

“Well look on the bright-side,” Tonks said, cheerfully. “At least you didn’t have to teach!”

“Shut up, you. Here.” Mad-Eye snorted.

He held out a strip of parchment to Harriet. Harriet hesitated. Mad-Eye kept holding it out to her. Daniel gave her shoulder an encouraging squeeze and Harriet slowly took the parchment. She squinted in the dim light and read.

 

_The new Headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix may be found at number twelve, Grimmauld Place, London._

Harriet blinked. “What’s the—”

“Not aloud!” Mad-Eye snarled.

Harriet recoiled a little and Daniel instantly was on Mad-Eye. “The hell are you thinking, yelling at her?!” Daniel roared.

The noise rose when Aurora and Sirius joined in. “She’s just been attacked and you’re going to snap at her like that?!”

“Everyone, please,” Kingsley said, stepping between them. “We don’t have time for this. We have to get inside!”

“I-inside?” Harriet asked.

Her eyes popped open wide. Where once had been a little gap between the houses, now stood a tall, black, imposing looking house. The door was black, and the paint was peeling. There was a silver ‘12’ on the door, and a silver door handle. Harriet noticed that both were made of serpents.

Harriet looked to numbers eleven and thirteen. It was as though number twelve had pushed them both to the side and squeezed right in between them. Apparently, the other houses had noticed nothing, as the stereo, which Harriet noted was coming from number eleven, continued to pound away.

Remus drew his wand and walked up the short flight of steps. He tapped the door with the tip of his wand. At once, there was a series of loud clicking and clacking, along with the rattling of a heavy chain. Finally, the door creaked open.

“Quickly, quickly,” Lupin said, urgency in his voice as he ushered everyone inside.

Daniel made sure that Harriet was the first in. Harriet crinkled her nose as she crossed the threshold. She was immediately hit with the smell of rotting wood, and dust. Harriet shivered looking around. The hallway was dark, and the building had an ancient, decrepit feel to it.

“Let’s have a little light,” Mad-Eye growled.

There was a hissing sound, and a series of gas-lamps flared along the walls. They did not do much to improve the lighting, and that which they did light up did not increase Harriet’s sense of foreboding. The wallpaper was peeling, and the carpet on the floor was threadbare. The ceiling and chandelier overhead were coated in cobwebs. Harriet swallowed. The chandelier, the necks of the gas lamps, and a nearby candelabra on an ancient looking table were shaped like snakes, as the door handle and house number had been.

Harriet looked up at Daniel, about to ask him about the house but he put a finger to his lips. “Not here,” he whispered. “We might wake something up.”

Harriet stared at him. What did that mean? Daniel kept a hand on her shoulder, guiding her down the hallway. They passed some stairs, heading towards a set of double-doors. One of them opened and Professor McGonagall stepped into view.

Relief swept over Professor McGonagall’s face. “You made it… thank goodness.”

“Yes, she’s safe, Minerva,” Daniel said. “We’re all present and accounted for.”

“No troubles on your flight?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Not a single sign of trouble,” Sirius said. “Strange…”

Harriet looked up at him. What had he meant by that?

“Well let’s get you into the sitting room, Harriet dear,” Professor McGonagall said.

The group kept walking. As they moved deeper into the hallway, the more creeped out Harriet felt. They passed a tall curtain, dotted with moth-eaten holes that Harriet thought must be covering another door. There was a large umbrella stand made from a troll-leg. As they passed the staircase, Harriet noticed a series of shrunken heads on placards. She squinted and felt her stomach churn. They weren’t shrunken heads. They were decapitated house-elf heads.

Harriet froze. As she stared, the heads vanished. Instead, her vision was filled with the face of Piers Polkiss. He was almost nose to nose with her, his eyes wide, his mouth gaping, the corner of his mouth twitching. He was shaking his head pleadingly. Harriet realized she was lying on her back still. She sat up and realized what she was seeing. Piers wasn’t shaking his head. Instead, his disembodied head was rocking back and forth on the asphalt, his broken body lying a few feet away, blood beginning to pool—

Harriet screamed. She threw herself against the wall opposite the heads and kept screaming. She clenched her eyes shut, screaming louder. Even with her eyes closed, the sight of the face would not go away. No—it went away—but now it was replaced by the sight of Malcolm Burns’ flattened face after Kinney grabbed hold of the back of his head and smashed him face first into the side of the building. She couldn’t hear her own screaming anymore. All she could hear was their screams. Their terrible, blood-curdling screams before they were all silenced, one by one.

## * * * *

Harriet snorted as she woke. She felt deeply calm, calmer than she had in weeks. She was sleeping on her side. It was then she realized there were arms around her. A soft, but strong figure was holding her, breathing deeply and slowly.

Harriet shifted as slowly as she could, looking back over her shoulder. It was Aurora holding her; sound asleep. Harriet turned her head back and squinted. Daniel was laying in front of her, also asleep.

Harriet suddenly felt ashamed. She remembered what had happened now. She had panicked at the sight of the house-elf heads. She had remembered everything that had happened in the alley; everything that Kinney had done to the boys.

Harriet felt queasy. She shouldn’t feel ashamed. It was horrifying. Even Dudley had been sick.

Dudley.

Was Dudley okay? Dudley, after how horrible he had been to her all Harriet’s life, had come to her rescue. Dudley.

Harriet kept trying to process everything that had happened. She thought about the attack. She had been listening to her Walkman. She was walking her usual routes. They had to have been waiting for her. But why? Why had they been there?

_You pissed them off_ , the little voice in Harriet’s head told her. _You got in the way of their_ fun _and they wanted to teach you._

_“Think you can stop our fun, Potter? Well, now you’re our fun!”_

Harriet shivered. Earlier in the day she had gone to the shop with Mrs Figg. As they went, they heard some commotion ahead. Mrs Figg wanted to go around, but Harriet didn’t. She had recognized Dudley’s oafish laughter. They were beating up someone. She could hear the pleading in the voice, even over the sound of Dudley and his gang’s jeers and cackles.

Harriet couldn’t take it. All the anger that had been building up inside her since Rathlin had exploded out of her. She ran headlong towards the noise. Down a side-street, she saw them. The gang had surrounded a young boy. He didn’t look more than ten or eleven. They were taking turns pushing him back and forth. One would push him back as he tried to make a break for it, into another gang member who would hit him, then push him over towards another.

Harriet felt her heart starting to pound. Even now, the sight filled her with rage. She ran towards the boys. She drew her wand. Dudley had frozen. The rest of the boys had laughed at the sight of the wand, but Dudley looked on the verge of wetting himself. It had felt good. It felt so very good.

That’s when Sirius appeared. The sight of him finally sent the boys running. Sirius had looked a little disappointed. Harriet suspected that he was in the mood for a good scrap.

That was when Harriet learned she was being watched by more than just Mrs Figg. She was a little glad that it had been Sirius who was watching her at that time. Had it been Daniel or Remus, they probably would have told her off for risking herself like that.

The boy they were beating up had run away as well. Why though? Shouldn’t he have stayed to thank his rescuers? Instead, he took one look at Harriet’s face and ran away as if in sheer panic. He was a scrawny boy, with knobbly knees and black hair. Harriet furrowed her brow. He had even looked a little familiar, though Harriet couldn’t think of why. She supposed she must have seen him around the neighbourhood a few times.

Harriet felt a little uncomfortable. She wanted to toss and turn, but she didn’t want to wake Aurora or Daniel. Instead she kept staring at Daniel’s sleeping face and remembering.

She’d felt restless. She wanted to be alone. On top of the constant presence of Mrs Figg, Harriet now knew that she had been under constant surveillance. She felt trapped. She was now in charge of Finn, she was stuck in Mrs Figg’s house, it was so hot…

Her invisibility cloak! No one had taken it from her. It was time for a little freedom.

Harriet slipped on her cloak. She just wanted to take a little walk. A walk without Mrs Figg, or even a hidden Order member tailing her. There was so much weight on her mind that she had to get as much off it as she could.

Harriet had paused before leaving her room. She stared at Finn on the desk. Even if Finn was presently one of her burdens, she had felt wrong leaving him behind. Just sitting there on a desk; alone, unprotected. She took him along.

Harriet snuck out the back door. The whole way across the back garden she expected an Order member to step out of the shadows and stop her. But they did not. She awkwardly clamoured over the fence, and into the next garden. She crept past that neighbour’s house, and out onto the street.

She was free. It was an exhilarating sensation. After a week of worrying about Finn, the horror of finding out his memory had been wiped, and the burden of his final wish, Harriet felt free. However, after only a few yards, she also felt sweaty.

She took off the cloak. Even now, Harriet was berating herself in her mind. _Why didn’t you just keep it on? You would have gone right past them and they would have never known had you just kept the stupid thing on!_

Harriet started to shift uncomfortably when she felt Aurora’s arms and stopped. Harriet sighed. She’d caught herself up to speed on what had happened leading up to the attack. But she didn’t think she could go any farther. Not tonight. The more her thoughts drifted towards that alley, the tenser she felt.

Daniel grunted. His eyes fluttered open and he stretched. He gave her a forced little smile as he saw her awake.

“Hey, Harricane… how long have you been awake?”

Harriet shrugged. She felt Aurora stir behind her.

“Hey honey,” Aurora said softly. “Oh, you’re awake.”

“Yeah,” Harriet muttered. “Time is it?”

Daniel rolled over, looking at the clock on his side of the table. “A little after four,” he said. “Still plenty of time to sleep.”

Harriet nodded. “What happened?”

Aurora sighed. “You had a bit of an attack downstairs…”

“You wouldn’t stop screaming until Aurora held you…”

Harriet flushed. Now that her mind did not feel as full, she was beginning to feel tired again.

“Where’s Finn?” Harriet asked.

Daniel’s lips tightened a little.

“He’s right here, sweetie,” Aurora said, lifting an arm off Harriet. It returned a moment later, holding Finn in front of her. Harriet took the jar and held it to her chest. Aurora’s arm held down around her once more. Harriet closed her eyes. She was safe now. Finn was safe now. She could sleep.

## * * * *

When they next woke, Daniel and Aurora showed Harriet to her proper bedroom. As they ascended the stairs, they explained to Harriet that the house was not exactly safe.

“This was Sirius’ old family home,” Daniel said, still just barely whispering, “as you might guess he wasn’t exactly home very much… in fact he ran away at sixteen. Lived with your dad for a while.”

“They were dark wizards?” Harriet asked, now whispering out of habit as well.

Daniel grimaced. “They… had those leanings, yes. Sirius’ younger brother became a Death Eater, in fact…”

Harriet tightened her lips. Sirius had certainly fallen far from the tree, it seemed, and yet Harriet supposed she now saw why people had jumped so quickly to thinking Sirius was a dark wizard all along.

“No one has really lived here for years,” Aurora chimed in. “Except the old family house-elf, but… I’m afraid the years of isolation have affected him rather badly…”

“Well his only company has been that mad old portrait of Sirius’ mother.”

“Huh?”

Daniel gave a dark smile. “That curtain downstairs. It covers a portrait of Sirius’ mother… it… well…”

“It has a nasty habit of screaming and trying to attack anyone who walks by…” Aurora finished.

“Oh,” Harriet nodded. “That’s why everyone was whispering…”

“To say the least,” Daniel said. “So just keep that in mind when heading down for meals.”

“We’ve tried removing her, and the elf-heads,” Aurora said. “But they’re all held in place with permanent sticking charms. We’d have to remove the parts of the wall with them to take them down, so we’re just trying to live with them for now…”

“We haven’t really had time to do any proper cleaning,” Daniel said. “So there’s still a lot of dangerous things about. There’s doxies in most of the curtains, so watch that. Their bites are mildly venomous.”

“And a lot of the items in the house are cursed to defend themselves… so be very careful what you touch…”

Harriet blinked. Why the hell were they staying here in that case?

Daniel seemed to read her mind. “Heh, it’s not the best place to live, but it’s safe… the Fidelius Charm has been placed on the house, so only those who know the secret phrase can see the house. On top of all its other defences, it’s safer than the Shack, plus the Shack is a little bit crowded now.”

“It is?”

“Yes, dear,” Aurora said. “Professor Dumbledore passed ownership of the Shack to Ben Jackson, now that he has graduated.”

“Whoa,” Harriet nodded, unable to keep from smiling slightly in approval.

“Yeah, so now the refugees who’ve graduated are living there, if they don’t want to try going back to the US of course.”

“Where’s everyone else?” Harriet asked now.

“Well, most everyone’s out on assignments for the Order,” Daniel said. “And Remus and Sirius won’t be living here… Sirius… well… he doesn’t like it back here much.”

_Guess I can’t blame him_ , Harriet thought.

“Remus is staying with him—keep him company, that sort of thing,” Daniel explained.

“Keep him out of trouble more like,” Harriet couldn’t help but quip.

Daniel snorted a laugh. “That, too.”

“Here’s your room, dear,” Aurora said as they reached the room. “We gave you the highest room because we thought it would be the quietest, and the safest.”

“Anyone getting in would have to fight through the whole house and much of the Order to get to you,” Daniel smiled.

“Not much of the Order is living here, but they will be in and out quite regularly,” Aurora said.

“Can I write my friends?” Harriet asked.

“Of course,” Daniel smiled. “Your trunk’s inside, and so’s Hedwig.

Harriet’s heart gave a little leap of joy. She hurried in through the door and at once was greeted with a happy hoot and a flash of white as her owl swooped down on her from the top of a wardrobe.

“Hedwig!” Harriet exclaimed as the owl landed on her shoulder, instantly preening Harriet’s hair for her.

Harriet giggled, stroking Hedwig’s soft feathers.

“The twins are in the room underneath yours,” Aurora said.

“Probably still sleeping in,” Daniel chuckled.

Harriet nodded, finally turning her attention from Hedwig to take in the room. It was a little better than the rest of the house, but not by much. It had at least been recently cleaned, and did not smell as musty. There was a large vanity with a mirror, a tall wardrobe where Hedwig had been perched, and a large double-sized bed. Even after having slept, the bed looked warm and inviting.

“I don’t know how long we’ll really be here,” Daniel said, awkwardly. “The house is still being built.”

“It’ll be a week, maybe two,” Aurora added.

“It’ll be done that soon?” Harriet asked.

Daniel gave her a sad smile. “No, it likely won’t be done until July.”

“Then where are we going?”

Daniel and Aurora exchanged awkward looks.

“Well, we’re not sure where yet,” Daniel said. “And it won’t be _us_ …”

Harriet blinked. Daniel sighed.

“You remember last summer when we had you and your friends move around? We’re… going to try something like that again.”

“We’re thinking of asking the Flamels if you and your friends can go stay with them for the summer…” Aurora said. “Their summer home is in France. It’s outside the country, it has incredible levels of security, and it’s somewhere peaceful you can actually relax with your friends after all that’s happened…”

Harriet didn’t know how to feel at this. She’d never left Britain before. On the one hand, it sounded like an adventure. On the other, it sounded as though she’d be running away.

“It’s still not decided,” Daniel said quickly. “We haven’t even asked yet.”

“Okay…” Harriet said quietly, not sure what else to say.

“Well, we’ll let you settle in. Or are you hungry? We can head down and have breakfast if you’d like?”

“Thanks,” Harriet said. “I’m… I could eat…”

Daniel’s smile grew and he looked a bit reassured. “Good, just… be mindful of the heads, okay?”

Harriet nodded.

“We’ll let you get your things the way you like,” Aurora said. “We’ll see you downstairs. Head all the way down, the kitchen’s through the door across from the portrait and down the stairs.”

“Okay,” Harriet said.

Daniel and Aurora left, quietly shutting the door behind them. Harriet didn’t move right away. She just stood in place, looking around the room. Even with light coming through the window, the room still had a dark, oppressive feeling. It looked as though someone had attempted to clean the window, but been defeated by the years of grime built up.

Harriet sat on the bed. As she did, she caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. The sight caught her completely off guard.

She looked perfectly normal. There wasn’t a scratch on her. Her black eye was gone.

Harriet rose from the bed and crossed to the mirror. Healer Smethwyck had healed everything. Everything on the outside. Harriet’s upper lip twitched. Unbidden, she felt deep resentful anger welling inside her.

This was a lie. She was looking at a lie. A stupid lie. She wasn’t better.

Wide awake, Harriet began to see it all again. Unblemished, her eye began to hurt from where the first punch hit her. She heard the crunching of her Walkman as it hit the pavement. She heard the clinking of Finn’s jar and the brief panic it would break before a foot slammed into her stomach, knocking the wind from her.

Harriet lifted her shirt. That bruise was gone, too. Harriet’s nostrils flared. It was wrong. It was all wrong. They didn’t hurt, yet she felt as though the marks were still there, and yet they weren’t. No one looking at her would ever know what she had just gone through.

Harriet glared at the lie-face in the mirror. The next thing she knew, her hand hurt, badly. Hedwig hooted with fright and fluttered from the bed to the top of the wardrobe again, flapping her wings. Harriet looked back at the mirror. There was a large crack in the old mirror that ran across the reflection of her face. Harriet looked down at her hand. The knuckle of her middle finger was bleeding. She had punched the mirror, without even thinking.

Harriet sank to the floor. Hedwig hooted more, calming herself and lowering her wings again. Harriet’s hand hurt now. Harriet held it, looking at the cut knuckle. It hurt, and yet in some dark part of Harriet’s mind she’d never known before, it felt right. She was supposed to hurt. That’s how you felt after things like that happened, right?

Suddenly, Harriet felt shame again. Why had she done that. It was wrong to do that. It wasn’t the mirror’s fault. She was the stupid one who snuck out and went for a walk when she shouldn’t. She was the idiot who took off her invisibility cloak.

Harriet leaned against her bed and was immediately overcome with tears. She didn’t even hear the soft knock on the door, or Aurora calling her name. It wasn’t until she felt Aurora’s arms around her again that Harriet realized she was there.

Aurora didn’t say anything. She simply gently helped Harriet to her feet. She guided Harriet out of the bedroom and into the bathroom across the landing. Harriet did her best to choke back sobs as Aurora washed Harriet’s cut hand for her. She put a bandage on it and then sat on the edge of the tub, pulling Harriet into her arms. Harriet sat in Aurora’s lap, just letting it out.

“They hurt me and I couldn’t do anything,” Harriet sobbed, the words forcing themselves out.

Aurora said nothing, simply rocked Harriet gently, stroking her hair.

“They hit me and they kicked me and I couldn’t stop it,” Harriet went on. “I tried, I tried to get my wand but I couldn’t and they were gonna—they were gonna—”

“You’re safe now, sweetie,” Aurora said softly. “They’ll never do it again, no one will ever do that again, I’ll never let them.”

Harriet slowly looked up at Aurora. A feel for Aurora that Harriet had never quite felt before came over her now. A sense of belonging and peace. Her tears stopped. Aurora gave her a soft smile, and gently wiped away one of Harriet’s tears with her thumb. Harriet rested her head on Aurora’s shoulder, and closed her eyes as Aurora hummed a soft, soothing tune Harriet had never heard before, but it filled her with a sense of warm calm.

Harriet took a deep, slow breath, as a single word filled her mind.

_Mum._

## * * * *

Life in Grimmauld Place was taking some adjusting. The twins were brought over later in the day, so Harriet did enjoy their company. Order members also came, but when they did, Harriet and the twins had to go up to their rooms. They weren’t allowed in the meetings.

There was also contending with the house itself. It did indeed seem as though the house was alive and was not happy to be occupied. Harriet couldn’t help but feel as though everything in the house was watching her. She made the mistake of trying to pick up an odd, spindly object on a shelf that sprang to life like a spider and tried to stab her arm. Rosie came to Harriet’s rescue, swatting the object off her arm with one of her books and then smashing it again with the book on the floor.

The worst part, however, was the nightmares. Her first night in her own room resulted in three. Harriet couldn’t really remember any of them, but the first time she woke up sweating, the second time she woke up trying to punch the empty air above her. The third time she woke up screaming, which resulted in her spending the rest of the night sleeping with Daddy and Mum again.

Harriet felt ashamed of it the next day. She barely spoke during breakfast. Throughout the day, the twins kept their distance, as though worried that talking to Harriet would set her off. She could tell Nanette wanted to talk to her. The quieter of the twins would keep stealing glances at Harriet during lunch, as though she wanted to say something but would think better of it and stop.

The following night, Harriet broke the mirror again. She woke up sitting at the vanity, her hand hurting again. She shouted out in pain, which unfortunately woke the house-elf, Kreacher.

Harriet had yet to see the elf. He was reclusive and kept to himself. The sight of his enraged little face made Harriet shriek and fall off her chair. Kreacher, however, only had eyes for the mirror. He bellowed his indignation as he hopped onto the vanity, pressing his hands to the mirror in rage.

“MY MISTRESS’S VANITY! YOU HAVE BROKEN IT! THIS WAS MISTRESS’S OLD ROOM AND YOU ARE RUINING IT!”

“KREACHER!” Daddy had arrived. “The mirror can be fixed, Kreacher! Now get out of here.”

“Don’t have to take orders from you!” Kreacher snarled back, still pawing at the mirror.

Daddy shook his head in disgust and knelt in front of Harriet. His expression softened at once and sighed holding Harriet’s hurt hand. “It’s okay, sweetie…”

Harriet wanted to pull her hand away, but she couldn’t. Daddy quickly patched up the cut on her hand, and just sat on the floor, holding it. Harriet was starting to tremble. Daddy was mad at her. She just knew it. He wanted to yell at her.

“We’ll take care of it,” Daddy said softly, stroking Harriet’s cheek.

Harriet couldn’t look at him. Instead, she found herself looking at Kreacher. The elf was still on the vanity, whimpering sadly as he ran his hand along the crack. As Harriet watched, the crack slowly vanished, the mirror mending itself.

“There, there… Mistress… Kreacher made it all better… Kreacher will make it all better…”

“Let’s just… we’ll cover up the mirror from now on, okay?” Daddy suggested.

Harriet nodded. Kreacher grumbled on the top of the vanity. Seemingly pleased that it was back to normal, he hopped off the desk and slowly slouched from the room, stealing a dirty glance back over his shoulder at them.

Harriet furrowed her brow, watching the little elf leave. Something about Kreacher seemed different from any other house-elf she’d met. It wasn’t just his irritable demeanour. He spoke differently as well.

Whatever everyone else had said about Kreacher being off his rocker, Harriet somehow didn’t think so. He still referred to himself in the third person as Dobby and Winky did, but Kreacher sounded more aware than the other two.

As Harriet looked back into the elf’s cold eyes, her insecurities began to ebb away. Kreacher was a mystery. And Harriet just couldn’t let that stand.

## * * * *

Later that afternoon, Harriet sat about halfway up the stairs of Number Twelve. She was listening hard. Down on the ground floor, she could just hear Kreacher’s voice floating up to her.

“Filthy blood traitors,” the house-elf muttered. “Coming here, into my Mistress’ house, plotting doing away with the Dark Lord…”

“You must resist them, Kreacher.”

Harriet shivered as she heard the portrait speak. The portrait of Sirius’ mother was indeed giving Kreacher commands.

“Kreacher would, Mistress… Kreacher would… but _he_ has ordered Kreacher not to… and Kreacher must obey the blood of Black…”

Harriet shook her head. Dobby had worked for the Malfoys, and he had hated it. So much so that he had wanted to be given clothes, something Winky had treated as nearly a death sentence. Yet Kreacher seemed utterly devoted to the Blacks.

Throughout that day, Harriet had followed Kreacher around the house from a distance. She noticed something odd about his behaviour. It wasn’t so much that Kreacher didn’t clean. He was just very selective in what he cleaned. He restricted himself to unique heirlooms, and places.

“Poor mother,” Kreacher said, and Harriet’s stomach churned.

She had learned from eavesdropping on Kreacher earlier that the elf-heads were in fact his family, going back a couple generations.

“What would she say if she could see her home put to such misuse… someday… someday the Dark Lord will rule… and then Kreacher can rest… join you on the wall…”

Harriet felt another shiver. He actually wanted to have his head mounted on the wall along with them? What was wrong with him?

As Harriet thought, the image of the mounted heads came back to her. With that thought, the image of Piers’ decapitated head came roaring back into her consciousness. Harriet got to her feet, staggering a little as nausea swept over her. She pressed her forehead against the wall. It was cool, and calmed her slightly. She punched the wall just enough to make a thump.

Harriet grimaced, immediately regretting having done so. The sound would carry. Sure enough:

“Harriet?” came Daddy’s voice from down the stairs.

“Yeah,” Harriet called back. “I just… I missed a step,” she lied quickly.

There followed a very full silence. Harriet knew Daddy didn’t believe her.

“You sure you’re okay?” Nanette asked. She was peering over the railing from the landing above.

“Yes!” Harriet snapped at her.

Nanette looked as though Harriet had struck her instead of the wall. Harriet immediately felt a wave of guilt. Rosie’s face appeared over the railing too, though unlike Nanette, she looked furious.

“She just wanted to see if you’re okay!” Rosie snapped back.

“Ladies!”

Everyone froze now. Mum had added her voice to the fray. Everyone looked down at her. She was giving all three a very disapproving look indeed.

“Sorry, mom,” Rosie mumbled.

“Sorry…” Harriet mumbled as well, barely any louder.

Harriet looked back up at the twins, apologetically. Rosie kept giving Harriet a dirty look and the twins disappeared from sight. Harriet sat on the stairs again. She hugged her legs to her chest. She knew she shouldn’t have shouted. It wasn’t Nanette’s fault. She was just trying to show she cared.

Harriet was so distracted she didn’t even notice Kreacher slowly making his way up the stairs until he was almost level with her. He gave Harriet a very funny look.

“There’s the Potter girl… strong they say she is… very strong… they say she beat the Dark Lord in a duel…”

Harriet felt her anger rise. She was about to yell at him as well when the image of Nanette’s pained face stopped her. None of this was Kreacher’s fault, either, no matter how creepy he was.

“Yeah,” Harriet snorted. She had failed at keeping the indignation from her voice. “What about it?”

Kreacher said nothing, he just kept studying her. Harriet realized—rather horribly—how much Kreacher looked like the elf-heads on the wall. He had the same snout-like nose.

“Why do you like the Blacks so much?” Harriet asked. “They cut off your parents’ heads.”

“It is an honour to take your place on the wall!” Kreacher growled. “Kreacher served his Mistress and brave Master Regulus loyally. Kreacher loved him, and they loved Kreacher!”

Harriet blinked. Kreacher began muttering again, and started moving past her. Harriet watched him, thinking.

“Why do you only clean certain things? Why not the whole house?”

Kreacher froze. His back was to Harriet now.

“Kreacher is old. Kreacher does his best to ensure what matters is safe. What matters is honoured.”

Harriet kept watching Kreacher’s back. Inexplicably, she felt sorry for the old elf. His skin was starting to sag. It must be difficult for him, even with the strong magic house-elves had, to clean such a large house in his old age.

“You do a good job,” Harriet said.

Kreacher had been just about to take another step but stopped midway. He looked as though he’d been petrified. Harriet still couldn’t see his face. After what felt like a full minute, the aged elf shook his head, continued up to the next landing, stepped turned into the first door and slammed it shut behind him.

Harriet sighed. She was feeling lonelier now than she’d remembered feeling in a long time. She stood, dusting off the seat of her jeans, and headed back upstairs to her room. She felt more guilt as she passed the twins’ room. She supposed she should finally write her friends. She’d been so distracted since the attack she hadn’t thought to.

She entered her room and made her way to the little desk. Hedwig hooted balefully from the top of the wardrobe. Harriet sighed and sat. As she did, her eyes fell on Finn in the corner of the desk. Harriet studied the jar. The memories were swirling around inside it, shimmering ever so slightly. She slowly picked up the jar.

She furrowed her brow. Finn wanted her to keep his memories safe. Why? Well, he certainly fancied her.

She remembered the day it happened. She had spent three whole days agonizing over not knowing what had become of Finn. Then Portia came, with Colm.

“ _He wanted you to keep him safe_ ,” Colm had told her. “ _He said who better to keep him safe than Harriet Potter. She just beat that Voldemort guy.”_

Harriet set Finn’s memories down. She had tried to refuse. He was supposed to be with his brother. Besides, she couldn’t keep him safe. She couldn’t even keep herself safe. She rested her forehead on her desk. She’d write to her friends tomorrow. Her mind was too full now to think of anything happy.

There was a knock on the door. Harriet sighed. It was Daddy, coming to talk to her about the incident on the stairs. Tell her how she needed to be more understanding of the twins, how she needed to be strong, how this would all be over soon.

Nothing happened. The door didn’t open. There wasn’t another knock. Harriet crossed to the door. She hesitated, before slowly opening the door. No one was there. Harriet blinked. She was sure she had heard someone knock. She was about to close her door again when something caught her eye. Something glinted on the floor.

Harriet knelt for a closer look. It was a coin, a very ancient looking coin, one Harriet wasn’t familiar with. It wasn’t a galleon, sickle, or knut, and it wasn’t any Muggle currency she was familiar with. She picked it up, studying it closely. She didn’t recognize any of the writing on it. Something about the coin told Harriet it was ancient, and yet it had been polished to an almost brand new sheen.

Harriet stood again, took one more glance around the landing, and shut the door. She kept studying the little coin as she walked back over to her desk. She set it down next to Finn. She didn’t know where it had come from, but she had a suspicion who had put it there. If so, given the little elf’s devotion, this was definitely too special to just go in her pocket. She pulled open the desk drawer. There was an old roll of Spello-tape in there.

She took out the roll, and pulled off a strip. She set the coin on the lid of Finn’s jar and taped the coin to it, satisfied the tape was still sticky enough.

_There,_ Harriet thought, _two important things together._

Another knock on the door made Harriet jump.

“Yeah?” Harriet called.

“It’s lunch time, if you’re hungry,” Daddy called through the door.

“Yeah, I am,” Harriet called back.

She could hear the caution in Daddy’s voice. Everyone was liable to start tip-toeing around her now. Harriet sighed, put the tape back in the drawer, and opened the door to her room again. Daddy gave her a soft smile, and cupped her cheek.

“It’s all going to be over, soon,” he said. “The Flamels have agreed to take you all. We just need to set up how we’ll get you all there.”

“Will Nan and Rosie come, too?”

“Of course,” Daddy smiled.

“Good,” Harriet said.

Daddy’s smile grew and he put a hand around her shoulder.

“Sorry, Daddy…” Harriet sniffed, her guilt washing over her more.

“We know, sweetie… we know…”

Daddy began guiding Harriet down the stairs. It was difficult to tell over the sound of the creaking stairs beneath their feet, but as they headed down to the next landing, Harriet was sure she heard the bathroom door across from her bedroom shutting with a quiet click.


	3. A Funny Guest

“You are only as alone as you allow.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

A week had passed since Harriet came to Grimmauld Place. Carefully, Harriet put the letters from her friends in the drawer of her desk. They had all said the same thing, but the letters were comforting for Harriet to read all the same. It was clear that none of them had been told what had happened in the attack. Harriet certainly hadn’t mentioned it in any of her letters. She kept each letter to saying she was attacked by Dudley’s gang, Dudley had tried to save her, and that Kinney had also been there.

Harriet wasn’t sure why she was keeping what the boys had tried to do a secret. It felt shameful to her. The rational part of her mind told her that she had nothing to be sorry for. She was upset, they had surprised her, and they outnumbered her. It could have happened to anyone.

Yet Harriet cringed as the memory of Piers’ knife cutting at her shirt came to her mind. The sound of his belt buckle. The boys fumbling with her shorts.

She couldn’t tell them that. She just couldn’t. Then there was Dudley. Time had slowed down in that moment. She looked at Dudley, and Dudley looked at her. His face was blank; pale. Then it grew red, and minus the moustache, Harriet realized how much he looked like his father.

Unlike Uncle Vernon, his rage was not for Harriet, instead his eyes turned on his friends. He punched Malcolm first. This stunned the boys so much that they didn’t react as his fist next found Dennis’s nose. Harriet had heard the pop of it breaking.

That was when Piers turned his knife on Dudley. Dudley’s boxing lessons had come in handy. He had been just fast enough to avoid the slash of the blade. Harriet supposed he had been helped by Piers trying to keep his pants up. This put Dudley on the defensive, and gave the other boys time to start encircling him.

Harriet felt another spasm of shame. She should have acted then. The boys had let her go. But Harriet had frozen. She just kept watching in shock as Dudley did his best to keep the boys in view as much as possible.

Then there came the snort. It was dark, and angry. So very angry. The black form was enormous and hard to see in the dark as it flung Gordon into the wall. Then the screams started. The horrible screams.

Harriet winced. She’d pulled her hair, hard, without even realizing it. It wasn’t that she felt bad for the boys. Far from it. In fact, in the darkest recesses of Harriet’s mind, she grudgingly felt glad over what had happened. As much as the horror of it all made her sick, they were monsters. They deserved it.

But what about Dudley? Was he okay? Harriet wasn’t sure how to know. She couldn’t write him. It would make his parents go spare.

Dudley; Dudley had saved her. Not Kinney. She would never accept that. He could take his stupid ‘debt’ and shove it. It was Dudley who came to save her. The last person in the world she expected.

There was a knock on the door. Harriet smiled towards it.

“’S’open,” she called.

It opened and Daddy stepped in. Harriet noted he was carrying another stack of envelopes.

“More letters?” Harriet asked.

“Heh, seems so,” Daddy said. “Arabella has been holding onto these…”

Daddy held out the stack to Harriet. Harriet slowly took them. She looked at the top letter and gasped.

“They’re from Dudley?!” Harriet exclaimed.

“Heh, yeah,” Daddy said, giving the letters a bemused look. “Mrs Figg said he kept leaving them in her mailbox. One for each day after… what happened. She had thrown a couple out, but after the third one she fished the others back out of the bin and just kept collecting them. Finally, today she decided to send them on.”

Harriet stared at the letters. She counted them, then the days in her head. There was indeed one letter for every day since the attack. Harriet hastily opened the first one, not caring that Daddy was still standing there.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_Are you okay? No ones told me nothing since._

_Dudley_

Harriet stared at the letter. She set it down and tore into the next one.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_Still havent herd anything. Mum and dad getting anoyed with me for asking. Just want to know your okay._

_Dudley_

The next one.

 

_Deer Harriet,_

_Missus Figg told me off right good for coming around with that last letter. Wouldn’t tell me nothing either. Seemed surprised that I asked. Hope shes not throwing the others out. I’ll sneaky this one in her box after she’s asleep. Please write back if you get these. Maybe send the normal way. Dad will flip if it comes by an owl. Mum’s been weird lately. Just sits around. Dad thinks wer well shot of you. I dont._

_Dudley_

Harriet stared at this letter for a while. Daddy was still in the room, just sitting on her bed. He wasn’t saying anything. Harriet was sure he hadn’t read the letters, but he had probably guessed.

Harriet opened the next one.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_Stories finally in the papers. Its all wrong. They say was a gorilla what did it. Looked like one now I think on it but who was that man? His eyes. I’ll never forget his eyes. They was black, and empty yet like they was burning. He wanted me dead. But you didnt. You could of just let him do it, or told him to, but you didnt. You made him go. Thank you._

_Dudley_

Harriet’s hands were trembling. Dudley was thanking her? He didn’t think he was ‘well shot’ of her?

The next letter was the heaviest yet.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_Feeling lost, not knowing how your doing. Trying to figure out how I feel about anything. They were doing that. They were my friends. How were they doing that? To you. Is that what I pushed them to? Piers sugjested it once or twice with pretty girls in the naighborhood but I always thought he were joking. Dad always taught me that was bad. Real men don’t do that. Real men earn it._

_Gordons mum is suing the zoo. Zoo says none of its gorillas got out, but people don’t really believe them after that snake thing._

_Some guys from some Order or something stopped by last night. There was three of them. Mum and dad were really scared of one of them. Said after he was on the news. An escaped convict or something. I donno, I never watch the news._

_They really let mum and dad have it. Hard to listen to. They looked at me like Missus Fig did when I asked if you was okay. They said you was and that made me feel better. The one with the ponytail who was there after the attack he said you was leaving the country. The others didn’t seem to like him saying that._

_Also said he was going to be adopting you later this summer. After he gets married. He seems a nice guy. Cares about you a lot. Kinda guy you belong with. Told him about the letters. Said hed get them first chance he got. Said hed come back to check if I had more._

_Mum’s still not talking much. Worrying about her. She asked about the protection or something. That you would be safest here. Ponytail bloke said that was already broken or something moment you went to live with Missus Figg instead. That we didn’t have to worry about you no more. I don’t think I can stop worrying now. But it feels weird. Never had to worry before._

_Ill write more tomorrow. Hands really starting to hurt. Don’t normally write this much._

_Dudley_

Harriet slowly looked up at Daddy.

“You went to the Dursleys?”

Daddy half-smiled, half-grimaced. “Yeah, we did. Me, Remus, and Sirius.”

“Why?” Harriet asked.

Daddy sighed. “I… thought it was best. We all needed closure with things. And… Dudley did save you. I couldn’t forget that. When things came to their worst he did the right thing.”

Harriet chewed her lip, looking at the last letter. This one was heavier still. Slowly, she opened the envelope. Her eyes widened and her heart skipped at least a couple beats. This letter wasn’t from Dudley.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_I know Dudley has been trying to write to you in secret. So I have written this, and will have him take it to Mrs Figg for me._

_It is difficult for me to say this, but I am gladdened you are well. Even at your most insufferable you never deserved what those boys tried to do. You saved Dudley’s life, and for that you have my thanks._

_Vernon and I were not prepared for you. We were content to live our separate lives from you and your parents. You arrived on our doorstep in a basket with a letter that your parents had been killed and we were to take care of you. That the nature of your mother’s death meant that the only thing that would keep you safe was to live with us, her “blood” as the letter put it._

_I will not lie, we all would have rathered you were somewhere else. But it was what kept you alive, and however horrible my sister was with her twisted little friend, that awful Snape boy. He hurt me, you know? Used his magic to drop a branch on me while I was trying to listen in. Lily did pretty magic. It was unnatural, but she could float, she could make flowers open and close._

_But then she met that Snape boy. Lily no longer had time for me, her ‘ordinary’ sister. They would sit and whisper in dark, quiet places. He would tell her awful things. She didn’t do pretty magic anymore. Then when I tried to listen in, he dropped a branch on me and cut my shoulder open. I’d had enough of him and their kind. If Lily wanted to keep talking to him, I did not want to talk to her._

_But our parents. Our parents never believed me when I told them. They thought it was just an ‘unfortunate coincidence’. They were so proud to have a witch in the family. They wanted to see all the wonderful things Lily would learn. Lily got money for new frogspawn and other foul things. I got top marks in school, but what was my praise? “That’s good, dear,” they would tell me. Nothing like the praise they would shower on Lily._

_Then she met that Potter boy. I could tell he was no different. He would send her magical letters once a week the summer she turned sixteen. She would always act offended by them but I could see her blush. She liked him. She liked him a lot. Then Vernon and I had dinner with them, and he mocked Vernon as a “muggle,” bragged of his fortune and his racing broom where anyone in the restaurant could hear!_

_Then there was that letter that came with you. I’d believed the worst of my sister, but she died to save you. Her child. As had her husband. As Vernon and I would do for Dudley without a thought. You were all that remained of the goodness in Lily. And I vowed to keep you from following in her footsteps. I failed, miserably, but you saved Dudley. The good part of my sister lives in you as well._

_I don’t suspect we shall ever see each other again. The man with the ponytail, Daniel I think he said his name was, said he is going to adopt you. Vernon and I will not fight this. You belong with your own. He said he sells clothing. Normal clothing. Vernon and I suppose we can respect that, for whatever that’s worth. His fiancé is a teacher. I suppose you will be happy with them. As much as I can, I suppose I feel happy for you. And you have my thanks._

_I don’t know why I have told you all this. Once I started writing I could not stop. I don’t know if I will send this._

_Aunt Petunia_

Harriet was having a hard time seeing. Her eyes were watering.

“You okay…?” Daddy asked.

Harriet didn’t respond. She carefully put the letters back in their envelopes. Then she opened her desk drawer, and carefully stacked them on top of the stack of her friends’ letters.

“Yeah,” Harriet said. “I’m okay.”

For the first time in weeks, Harriet truly felt so.

## * * * *

Harriet did not read Aunt Petunia’s letter again. She wondered if she ever would. Not because it was offensive to her at all, but because it had been so meaningful (if unexpected). She could only imagine how long Aunt Petunia had kept all those feelings in. It somehow felt as though rereading it would cheapen the impact. Or maybe she was being silly. Harriet never knew for sure. She would always save it, however. That much she knew.

She did reread Dudley’s fourth and fifth letters several times over the course of the day. It was strange, Harriet was away from the Dursleys, and didn’t know if she would ever see them again, and yet she felt closer to them than she had her entire life. She thought about writing him back, but wasn’t sure she could come up with the words just yet.

She thought a lot about what Aunt Petunia had said about Professor Snape. So even then, Professor Snape was a bit of a jerk. Granted, Harriet only had Aunt Petunia’s side of the story. And Aunt Petunia was liable to view any magic negatively. Harriet was vaguely curious what his side of the story was. She supposed she could ask during her upcoming occlumency lessens, but she doubted he would answer.

Harriet wondered when the lessons were to start. Furthermore, when was she going to be moved to France? Dora had seemed ecstatic in her letter that they were all going to visit her.

Harriet was distracted by the sound of trudging footsteps coming up the stairs. She knew that sound well by now. It was the twins being annoyed that they had to go to their room because of another Order meeting. To Harriet’s surprise, they continued up to her room and there was a knock on her door.

“Harriet,” Rosie called, sounding irritable. “Mom said for you to come downstairs. Professor McGonagall wants to talk to you.”

Harriet raised an eyebrow. She went to the door, opening it and looking at the twins. It struck Harriet in that moment that she didn’t have to look down at them anymore. They had reached her in height. Somehow, she hadn’t noticed before.

“They say what it’s about?” Harriet asked.

The twins shrugged. “Just it was important,” Nanette said.

Harriet twisted her lips. “Okay… will you feel better if I tell you what they wanted to talk to me about after?”

“Duh!” the twins exclaimed at once.

Harriet rolled her eyes but smiled and hugged them together before hurrying down the stairs. Harriet heard quiet voices as she reached the bottom step. They were coming from the large double-doors into the dining hall. Harriet peeked into the room.

Professor McGonagall was sitting at the head of the long table. Daddy and Mum were seated to her right, while Remus and Sirius were to her left.

“What’s going on?” Harriet asked, feeling a little suspicious.

Professor McGonagall leaned forward on the table. “It is time we brought you up to speed on what is going on in the world, Harriet, and fallout of the attack.”

“We… we figured it was best that you learned from us, and got a proper perspective,” Daddy said.

Harriet glanced at Sirius. He was still looking a bit deflated. Harriet wondered if it was because he didn’t want to be back in this house, or if he still felt guilty.

Harriet slowly sat next to Mum. Professor McGonagall sighed. “Harriet, I’m afraid there is some… negative fallout from the attack on you.”

Harriet blinked. What did that mean?

“In the wake of the tragedy of Rathlin, it seems Fudge has decided to use the attack on you to his advantage.”

“How?” Harriet asked, thoroughly confused.

“ _The Daily Prophet_ has been… _discussing_ the attack,” Professor McGonagall sniffed. “They are using it as an excuse to talk of the dangers of Muggles, and how magical and Muggle children should not mix… it is meant to help justify the shutting down of Rathlin.”

“What?!” Harriet exclaimed, rising out of her seat. Mum put a calming hand on Harriet’s shoulder. Harriet didn’t feel calmed, but she sat all the same.

“Now, do not get me wrong,” Professor McGonagall said, “those boys were truly terrible representatives of their kind, but to use them as an excuse to slander some of the most talented and dedicated members of humanity is going much too far. I assure you, Harriet, all of us here at this table share your outrage.”

Sirius snorted. “They’re just lucky Kinney got to them before me…”

Professor McGonagall’s eyes narrowed as she surveyed Sirius, but she otherwise ignored him.

“That’s not all…” Remus said, leaning forward. “Some of the reporters on the scene overheard the new, inexperienced Aurors discussing the incident… including their suspicion that you were an Obscurial.”

Harriet’s chest tightened.

“The _Prophet_ has since published a retraction of the article, but I—personally—worry the damage might have already been done in that regard…”

Harriet’s hands clenched. Mum rested a hand on top of Harriet’s, giving it a calming squeeze.

“Sorry, sweetie… we knew this wouldn’t be easy, but we thought it’d be better that you knew… so you could expect it, rather than getting blindsided by this all at school.”

Harriet slumped in her chair. Was anything this summer going to go well? First the graveyard, then Finn, then the attack, now this?

“In the meantime… it seems Solomon Kinney’s activities have ended with this incident,” Professor McGonagall said. “And he has gone back underground. Harriet, you said that Kinney told you the debt was repaid… what do you think he meant by that?”

Harriet shook her head. She had absolutely no idea.

“I don’t know,” Harriet said. “I’m as confused about that as everyone. I’ve never done anything for Kinney, nor would I! Ever!”

Professor McGonagall sniffed, leaning back, staring off into space in contemplation. “The trouble is… Kinney thinks differently from all of us. The one person I know who might be able to have a handle on him is Howe…”

Professor McGonagall sighed. “At least… we have answered one question from this. Howe was in my office the night before he was arrested. He hypothesized that Solomon Kinney could turn into a form or forms other than human. We now know he was correct, and what’s more we know the form—or at least one of them—he can assume. I would give anything for us to have discovered this information some other way…”

 The table fell silent. Harriet thought.

“So… what about Voldemort?” she asked.

Professor McGonagall winced at the name, but overlooked it.

“Fortunately, You-Know-Who and his followers are rather easier to track than Solomon Kinney,” Professor McGonagall explained. “We know that he is seeking more followers, and what’s more, he is desperate.”

“Desperate?” Harriet asked.

“Yes,” Remus said. “His return went far worse than he’d planned. Not only did he fail to either kill you or bring you to his side, but he has learned that Solomon Kinney is truly against him, his most loyal follower has also been plotting against him, and you are far more powerful than he dared to imagine.”

Harriet felt her face get very warm at this praise, particularly coming from Remus.

Remus gave her a little smile. “Our source within the Death Eaters tells us that those factors have indeed made Lord Voldemort… paranoid. Lord Voldemort is holding the family of several Death Eaters he no longer trusts as hostages…”

Harriet blinked. “Hostages?”

“Yes… Lucius Malfoy’s wife, for instance…”

Harriet’s eyes went very wide indeed. Draco’s mother had been kidnapped? She remembered Lucius in the graveyard. Lord Voldemort had made Lucius leave with Kinney to pay him. But that was on Lord Voldemort’s own orders, wasn’t it?

“That’s not all,” Professor McGonagall said. “Our spy’s reports indicate that he has experienced feinting spells, and moments of physical weakness. Harriet, you said that You-Know-Who used a potion with an ancient incantation to rebuild his body. What was the incantation? As precisely as you can remember, please.”

Harriet thought. She didn’t like remembering the graveyard, but it had become easier than the attack, at least.

“It was something like… Blood of the father, unknowingly given… flesh of the servant, willingly given… blood of the enemy, forcibly taken…”

“And that was where Pettigrew took your blood?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Yes, Professor,” Harriet replied.

Professor McGonagall leaned back in her chair, her face shrewd in contemplation.

“Harriet, you said that when he had you under the Imperius Curse, Crouch told you to… what was it?”

“Play along,” Harriet said.

“So, in effect, you willingly gave your blood to You-Know-Who,” Professor McGonagall muttered.

“What does that mean?” Daddy asked.

“I couldn’t say, at the moment…” Professor McGonagall mused.

“Well, Harriet was sent there forcibly,” Remus said.

“Yes, but Harriet you were free to fight at any point you wished?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“I think so,” Harriet said. “Crouch… it didn’t feel like it usually did when he had the Imperius Curse on me during classes… it was more like—I don’t know—he just wanted a way for us to talk that no one could listen.”

“But what’s Crouch’s game?” Daddy asked, exasperated. “Why not just interrupt the ritual? Stop everything in its tracks? What did he gain by bringing Voldemort back?”

Professor McGonagall sighed. “I think the only person who can answer that question is Barty Crouch himself…”

“One of a few questions I have for him…” Sirius muttered darkly.

The table fell silent. Mum was thinking very hard, tapping one of her fingers on the table.

“Yes, Aurora?” Professor McGonagall asked, leaning forward in her curiosity.

“Well… this is just a guess, but Crouch wants Harriet as a new Dark Lady, correct?”

The group nodded.

“Well—if so—she needs to defeat Lord Voldemort… He needs to win over Death Eaters as supporters… and Harriet couldn’t do that without Lord Voldemort.”

Professor McGonagall leaned back in her chair, nodding in approval at Mum.

“Yes, that does follow…”

Harriet shivered. She hated thinking about being turned to the Dark Arts as much as she hated everything else that had happened to her.

Professor McGonagall turned her attention back to Harriet. “The next order of business, Harriet, is getting you to France. The Flamels are currently in the process of making arrangements with France’s magical government.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. She tried to think of what to say to this, but failed.

Daddy gave her a forced smile. “Mr Flamel has serious pull with the French governments. Both magical and muggle.”

“Knowing how compromised our Ministry is, we can’t trust anyone there,” Mum explained, “so we’re going to trust the French.”

“We are hoping to have the finalized plans by next week,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Okay.”

“The next item on the docket is your lessons with Professor Snape,” Professor McGonagall continued.

“Oh, yeah,” Harriet said. “I was just wondering about those.”

“Heh, wondering or worrying?” Sirius chuckled darkly.

Harriet realized she wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question.

“Well, they shall begin next week as well,” Professor McGonagall said. “Severus says he is finally prepared enough and has found the time in his schedule.”

“Took him long enough,” Sirius grumbled.

Harriet looked at him. Apparently despite their attempt to put their differences aside before the second task of the Tri-Wizard, Sirius was not entirely over their deep, mutual animosity.

“You-Know-Who is already suspicious enough of his followers, Sirius,” Professor McGonagall admonished. “Severus does not need You-Know-Who even more suspicious of what Severus is up to.”

“Of course, of course,” Sirius said dismissively.

Professor McGonagall returned her attention to Harriet.

“Lastly, Harriet… there is one last piece of unfortunate news…”

Harriet swallowed, steeling herself. Professor McGonagall glanced at Daddy and Mum.

Mum gasped. “What…?”

Professor McGonagall sighed. “I had Kingsley and Nymphadora search through any records they could find of the incident at Rathlin, regarding Master Finnbar Negus.”

Harriet felt her body go rigid and numb at the same time. What had happened?

“What? What happened?” Daddy demanded, almost rising from his chair.

Professor McGonagall held up a calming hand. “They found that Master Negus had been taken to a hospital in Belfast.”

Harriet said nothing. She couldn’t. She just kept staring at Professor McGonagall, both hopeful, and yet terrified. Even though Professor McGonagall had said it was bad news, there had to be something. Anything.

“Unfortunately, when Kingsley and Tonks arrived to collect him…”

Professor McGonagall took a deep breath.

“Master Negus was not there. He had never been admitted. No one knew anything about him. It seems all the Aurors had done was drop him off on the doorstep, and he wandered off…”

“He wandered off?!” Harriet exclaimed. “How could he do that?!”

“Apparently, the Ministry was not terribly careful where it left him…” Professor McGonagall said bitterly. “By the looks of it, they just dropped him off in front of the hospital and left.”

Harriet fell back in her seat. This numbed her like nothing else had in the conversation. Finn was missing? He didn’t know who he was anymore. How could anyone find him? Pains revisited her mind. She remembered the tormented look on Colm’s face as he told her how Finn didn’t even recognize him. His own brother.

“How… so… so, how do we find him?” Sirius asked.

“I can’t say…” Professor McGonagall admitted. “We barely have enough resources to keep an eye on You-Know-Who, the Ministry, and Kinney…”

An awkward silence followed. Harriet was staring at the table. Her mind wasn’t working anymore. What was she going to do? She had Finn’s memories, but no Finn. What was she going to do with his memories anyway? Why had Professor Howe saved them? Could they go back in Finn’s head? Like pieces of a puzzle?

Daddy broke the silence. “Well, as it’s almost that time, would you care to join us all for dinner, Minerva?”

“Thank you, Daniel, I would like that very much.”

“Remus, Sirius?”

Sirius took a tiny glance at Harriet. He seemed about to refuse but Remus spoke up faster. “Of course we will.”

“Great,” Daddy smiled. “Harriet, sweetie, would you go get the girls?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Harriet’s feet were sluggish going up the steps. She looked down at them, feeling almost as if they were moving on their own. She was halfway to the twins’ room when a door opened.

“What’s wrong with the Potter girl…?” she heard Kreacher mutter.

Harriet sighed. “I can hear you…” she muttered.

“Seems upset, she does,” Kreacher continued. “That missing boy…”

“You were listening?!” Harriet demanded.

“Kreacher listens, just as Miss Potter listens,” Kreacher retorted.

Harriet glared down at him. Kreacher’s expression was defiant, and perhaps a little accusatory as he looked back up at her.

_Okay, so he’s been on to you,_ Harriet thought bitterly.

“Sorry,” Harriet said, grudgingly. “I wanted to know more about you… but I was afraid to ask…”

Kreacher stared at her. He did not speak, but Harriet could almost see the gears turning in his mind as he studied her.

“I don’t really talk to people,” Harriet said. “I just sort of… get caught up with people who do talk…”

“Your friends who write you letters?” Kreacher asked.

“Yeah…” Harriet found herself smiling at the thought of them. “I’ll be seeing them soon.”

Kreacher again did not say anything right away. Harriet felt her sense of curiosity of Kreacher rising. He was truly like no house-elf she had met before. He was cunning, but she did not think him malicious. He listened, and thought.

Slowly, Kreacher turned and ambled back into the room he’d emerged from. As the door shut behind him, Harriet heard him muttering under his breath again.

“Belfast… what kind of name is that for a town, Mistress? Wonder where it is…?”

## * * * *

After dinner, Professor McGonagall thanked them politely and headed for her home. Harriet barely ate anything. The food was good, but she had no appetite. After she was done eating, Harriet went straight up to her room.

She was staring at Finn. Her mind was doing flip-flops, running around in circles, trying to make sense of everything. Why was she worrying about Finn, instead of everything else? She wasn’t worrying about Lord Voldemort. She wasn’t intrigued about how he seemed to be weakened from the altered ritual.

She felt bad for Draco, but even that couldn’t penetrate the wall of misery that had built itself up around Harriet’s mind.

What did it matter what Kinney was doing? Or Crouch, Jr? They weren’t trying to hurt her. Not enough she could care.

The knock on the door made Harriet jump so hard she bumped her knee on the desk. She looked around, rubbing her sore knee. Sirius was standing there. He was leaning against the door frame, giving Harriet an apologetic look.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you…”

“Didn’t hear you,” Harriet admitted.

Sirius gave a forced smile. “Years of practice,” he said, simply. “Mind if I come in…?”

Harriet shook her head. Sirius took a step in, but paused. “Wait, was that a yes or no to me coming in? That always confused me…”

Unbidden, Harriet gave a soft laugh. “Yeah, come in.”

Sirius smiled and stepped in, looking around the room. His expression fell as he did.

“Never been in this room before,” he said.

“No?”

Sirius shook his head, slowly sitting on the bed. “Nope… my cousins would stay here sometimes when they visited. Then I guess Mum moved in here after Father finally shuffled off.”

“Your cousins?” Harriet asked. “You have other family?”

Sirius grunted. “If you can call them that…” Sirius said. It sounded as though he was going to admit something painful. “Bellatrix, Narcissa, and Andromeda…”

Harriet blinked. Two of those names meant something to her, but she couldn’t think of where she’d heard them before.

Sirius seemed to notice Harriet thinking.

“Bellatrix was one of those caught with Crouch, Jr, after torturing the Longbottoms…”

Harriet gasped. “What?”

Sirius grimaced. “Yeah… and Narcissa… she’s… well… she’s Lucius Malfoy’s wife…”

Harriet’s mouth was hanging wide open now. Sirius wasn’t looking at her. He was looking determinedly at the ceiling.

“Yeah, she married that scum… she and Bellatrix were peas in a pod… and yet I’m terrified for her. Especially if Voldemort’s even more unhinged than before.”

“Sirius…”

“Andromeda… she was my favourite. She married a muggle-born, you know? Ted Tonks.”

Sirius looked at her now. “Yeah, Tonks is my cousin, too. Pureblood families are sort of fucked up, that way.” Sirius snorted. “Literally.”

Harriet laughed again.

“Anyway,” Sirius sighed. “Not why I’m here. Remus has been on me for some time to talk to you about what happened.”

Harriet tightened her lips.

“I… I’m sorry, Harriet… I should have kept a closer watch… I should have realized from how you acted towards those bullies how badly you were hurting… I should have come inside, talked to you then—”

Sirius grunted and was cut off when Harriet crossed the room in two strides and flung her arms around him tight.

“I’m sorry, too!” Harriet wailed.

Every emotion was coming out of her now. The lingering feelings of guilt combined with the emotions of Dudley and Aunt Petunia’s letters and the news about Finn.

“I wasn’t thinking, I shouldn’t have done it! It’s all my fault!”

“Oh, Harriet!” Sirius exclaimed, kneeling so he could hug her better. “It is not your fault.”

“Yes it—”

“No it’s not!” Sirius declared.

Harriet felt her sniffles and choked sobs stop, and she looked up at him.

“It is _not_ your fault,” Sirius said, looking down at her firmly. “You went to a helpless kid’s defence, it’s what I would have done. It’s their fault. It was what they chose. It hurt you, and that will eat at me forever, but it is not your fault.”

Harriet swallowed as Sirius’ face became blurred by tears welling in her eyes. Sirius gently took off her glasses, and dabbed her eyes with his sleeve for her.

“Bad things happen all the time to good people, when they try and do the right thing. Look at me? I tried to avenge your parents and wound up in Azkaban for it. But even after all that… I’m on top. I’m out of Azkaban, I have my best friends back, I’ve met a wonderful woman, and most importantly I have you. Terrible things happen to people all over the world. What makes us great is how we pick ourselves back up and move on.”

Harriet digested this. Sirius looked around the room again, his eyes falling on Finn.

“Is that his memories?” Sirius asked.

Harriet sniffed, nodding. Sirius reached over, picking it up. He blinked in bemusement at the coin taped to the top.

“Where did this come from?” Sirius asked.

Harriet blushed slightly.

“I… I think Kreacher gave it to me.”

Sirius raised an eyebrow and his face darkened.

“Be careful of that elf, Harriet,” Sirius cautioned. “He’s a shrewd one, however batty he pretends to be.”

“I noticed,” Harriet said. “He’s smart.”

“Very smart,” Sirius confirmed. “And he worshipped my family and their connection to the Dark Arts. Mother adored him for it… same with my brother.”

Harriet pondered this. She had been kind to Kreacher, and he gave her the coin. Did he really think the same way the Blacks had, or was he just parroting them because they were nice to him? She wondered how she would work that out. She didn’t figure just asking would work.

“Maybe we should try being nicer to him?” Harriet suggested. “He reminds me of me, I guess…”

Sirius raised an eyebrow at this comparison. Harriet shrugged. “I don’t know… For a long time, I wanted the Dursleys to like me. I’d put up with and do anything they asked because I just didn’t know better.”

Sirius gave no response either way. Sirius resumed studying the jar. He was thinking hard.

“You like this boy, huh?” Sirius asked.

Harriet slowly nodded. “He… he kind of charged head long into my life… he was the Muggle boy I told you about, the one from the Hallowe’en party.”

“That’s right,” Sirius chuckled “the ‘rapscallion’.”

Harriet felt a pang at the memory of that name.

“We’ll find him,” Sirius said confidently.

Harriet looked up at Sirius again.

“How?”

Sirius smiled. “Well, there’s at least one of us in the Order who has no real responsibilities… is supposed to be lying low. Just has to check in once a week for appointments.”

“Sirius!” Harriet gasped. “You can’t do that! If you get caught—”

“The Ministry’s not paying any attention to me, anymore,” Sirius said confidently, gently setting Finn back down on the desk. “Besides, I’ve already been violating my parole to keep an eye on you.”

Harriet felt her eyes water again and she hugged Sirius as tight as she could manage.

“Thank you,” she said under her breath, repeating it several times.

Sirius gently stroked her back as he hugged her back. “I’ll find him. I’ll talk to Tonks tomorrow, ask her what the hospital was. I’ll start hunting from there.”

Harriet sniffled, her tight hug unrelenting.

“He was the one from the gala, too, wasn’t he?” Sirius asked.

Harriet could only nod.

“And made that cassette for you?”

Harriet nodded again.

“Damn… that boy’s got it for you good.”

Harriet couldn’t help but snort a short laugh through her tears. “Even for a rapscallion?”

Sirius laughed. “I have a soft-spot for rapscallions. Especially ones with hearts underneath it.”

Harriet blushed. “He calls me ‘Dove’. I really like it…”

Sirius nodded, kindly. “You should, doves are symbols of peace, even in the magical world.”

Sirius smiled down at Finn on the desk. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

## * * * *

The following day, Harriet was standing in front of a large tapestry with Kreacher. It was the Black family tree, going back generations. Harriet had seen it before, but never truly paid it any mind. Not until last night when talking with Sirius.

“The Black family tree,” Kreacher croaked in his bullfrog voice.

“Wow…” Harriet studied the tapestry carefully. “So many… over so much time.”

“A noble and most ancient house,” Kreacher agreed.

Harriet chuckled. The top of the tapestry did indeed read:

 

_The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black_

_‘Toujours Pur’_

 

“Goes back to the Middle Ages,” Harriet observed. Her eyes moved to the bottom of the tapestry, and she frowned. “Someone’s burned it…”

“The removal of those who dirty the family’s purest blood,” Kreacher muttered.

Harriet grimaced. She was trying to be nice to Kreacher, but it was difficult when he said things like that. Kreacher gave Harriet a dirty look. She knew he could tell she disapproved. She supposed it was good. She wanted to be on Kreacher’s good side to try and nudge him away from thinking terrible things about Muggles and Muggle-borns, not encourage him.

Harriet shook her head and returned her attention to the tapestry.

“So, I’m guessing Sirius was burned off…?”

“Of course he was,” Kreacher snarled. “Nasty little boy who broke my Mistress’s heart with his lawless ways! She cried for a week after he ran away. Kreacher tried to console his mistress. She had a true, proper son in Master Regulus… brave, so… so…”

Kreacher trailed off. Harriet looked down at Kreacher. He was hugging his chest, rubbing his arms. His face was full of an immense pain. In fact, there was a tear forming in his eye.

“Kreacher?”

Kreacher’s pained expression was gone at once. “Kreacher must get back to cleaning.”

The elf began to wander off. Harriet wanted to call after him, but she knew it would do no good. She knew the look on his face. It was the same look Harriet had when she genuinely wanted to be alone.

Since she first complimented Kreacher, Harriet noted a slight change in the elf. For one thing, he was now wearing a clean towel, rather than the ratty, stained one he was wearing before. For another, he was starting to clean more than just select heirlooms. Indeed, Harriet was awake all night listening to the sound of Kreacher finally driving the doxies out of the curtains.

“Filth! Besmirching the house of my noble masters!”

Harriet grimaced remembering that. He sounded just like the portrait of Sirius’ mother. She had been set off by Tonks the day before, when Tonks kicked over the troll-leg umbrella stand. It was anything but pleasant. Sirius’ mother screamed, clawing at them all, calling them all manner of foul words.

_“That elf is so weird_.”

Harriet jumped. She looked around at Nanette and Rosie sitting on the couch. Rosie was watching after the elf, her eyes narrowed. Harriet wanted to be irritable, but she closed her eyes and forced herself to be calm.

“Well, he is a bit weird, but Kreacher’s had a hard life,” Harriet said. “He’s been alone for years… and look what the family he lived with was like?”

Nanette and Rosie stared at Harriet.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Are you talking to us?” Rosie asked.

“Yeah,” Harriet said.

The twins blinked a couple times. Harriet furrowed her brow.

“Didn’t… didn’t you just say Kreacher is weird?”

Nanette and Rosie looked at each other, then looked back at Harriet and shook their heads.

Harriet scratched her cheek. That was odd. She could have sworn she’d heard them say something.

“What are you two up to?” Harriet asked, changing the subject.

“ _Nature’s Nobility: A Wizarding Genealogy_ ,” Nanette replied.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “More of that pureblood rubbish?”

“Yeah,” Rosie sighed. “But there aren’t any other fun books in the house. They’re all about how great purebloods are.”

“Well, you could borrow more of my Nancy Drew books to read,” Harriet suggested.

“You’d let us?” Nanette asked.

“Sure,” Harriet smiled. “The books are up in my trunk. You can go ahead and get them if you want?”

The twins smiled, looking touched. Harriet felt her heart grow a little. Rosie had been much kinder to her over the last couple of days, after Daddy and Mum finally sat the girls down to explain to them what Harriet had been through. It made her feel good to do something that made them happy.

Harriet headed out and down the stairs. As she did, she heard the twins hurrying up them towards her room.

“Just no turning Hedwig pink again,” Harriet called back to them playfully.

“No promises!” Rosie teased back.

Harriet rolled her eyes but smiled as she returned her attention to the tapestry. After a few minutes she finally found the burn that must have been Sirius. It was next to a ‘Regulus Arcturus Black,’ who was born around the right time. There was a branch off of Sirius’ father’s, Cygnus Black, III. It connected with a Druella Black (née Rosier).

Harriet furrowed her brow. Dora’s mother’s maiden name had been Rosier. It did not expand any further on Druella’s lineage, but there were in fact three offshoots of Cygnus and Druella. She read Bellatrix and Narcissa, along with a third that was burned off as Sirius was. That must have been Andromeda.

Bellatrix connected with Rodolphus Lestrange. Narcissa connected with Lucius Malfoy. From this pairing, she read Draco’s name.

Her mind calmed after last night, Harriet felt her worry for Draco begin to grow. He had been horrible in the past, but Draco was beginning to turn around as Harriet saw it. Not that all her friends agreed. But Draco was definitely interested in Kenley, an American refugee, and a Muggleborn.

Harriet pondered this. Why was Draco interested in Kenley? She had been petrified by the basilisk their second year. But why would that make Draco start fancying her? He had seemed quite visibly shaken after she was petrified, but Harriet had thought that was because of his shock over their being a Muggleborn in Slytherin, and that Slytherins were not immune to the basilisk.

Harriet put her hand on Sirius’ burn mark. She wondered if it could be repaired. House-elves had very powerful magic, maybe she could get Kreacher to do it. Could that gap between them ever be bridged?

Harriet lowered her hand, looking around the study. She suddenly felt lonely without the twins there. She decided to head upstairs and see how they were getting on with the books.

The stairs creaked under her feet as she ascended. She stopped, wondering how Sirius walked up them so quietly. She put her foot on one. She moved it side to side, raising and lowering, until finally she found a spot where the step didn’t creak. She repeated with the next one. Sirius must have memorized where all the creaky spots in the stairs. Even after all these years he hadn’t forgotten.

Harriet could hear Nanette and Rosie giggling now. She tilted her head, listening. It was coming from her room. What could be so funny?

Harriet moved faster up the stairs. The door to her room was open. Even from the landing, Harriet could see what the twins were doing. At once, Harriet felt herself panic, and yet freeze. They had found her _Nancy Drew_ books, all right. And her clothesline.

Harriet watched in horror as Rosie turned her back to Nanette, putting her wrists behind her.

“You’re so not going to be able to do it right,” Rosie taunted.

“Only cuz I’ve never done it before,” Nanette snorted, as she tried to tie Rosie’s wrists.

Just then, Rosie spotted Harriet and smiled. “Oh, hey,” Rosie said cheerfully. “Nan and I are gonna see if we can escape. Like Nancy does in the books.”

At once Harriet felt her body surge to life. Horror and anger welled up inside her in equal measures.

“GET OUT!” Harriet shrieked, storming into the room.

Now Nanette and Rosie were too shocked to move.

Harriet pointed at the door. “I SAID GET OUT!” she cried, tears flowing and her hands trembling.

Nanette and Rosie dropped the clothesline at once. They scrambled past Harriet, tripping over themselves as they hurried from the room. Harriet slammed the door shut after them.

Her anger lasted only seconds after the girls were gone. Guilt and shame took hold at once. She sank to the floor, sobbing.

How could she shout at them like that? No, how could they dig through her things like that? She’d only said they could get the books. Not dig through everything else. No, she had never really hidden it that well. They could have found it by complete accident.

Harriet slumped over onto her side, curling up on the floor. She hugged her legs to her chest.

_Freak!_

_No! I’m not!_

_You are! Freak! Your sisters! You’re poisoning them with your sick, twisted ways!_

_I’m not!_

The door burst open. Harriet’s back was to the door. She could feel the eyes of Daddy and Mum on her.

For a moment, there was only the sound of Harriet’s pained grunts as she awkwardly rocked lying on her side. Over and over again, the word tore at her.

_Freak! You’re in trouble now, freak! You’re going to get what you deserve!_

A hand touched her shoulder. Harriet whimpered and curled up tighter, waiting for the blow to come.

“Don’t hit me!” she cried.

The hand jumped back at once. More silence followed.

“Harriet… sweetie…” Mum’s voice came. It was soft, and caring. It was wrong. She shouldn’t be speaking to Harriet in that voice. She should be shouting. She should be screaming.

“Is she okay…?” Harriet heard Nanette now.

Harriet couldn’t even cry now. She felt Daddy’s strong hands sliding under her, around her shoulders and under her knees, slowly lifting her off the floor. He sat with her on the bed, holding her close.

“We’ll put her stuff away,” Rosie said, her voice ridden with guilt.

“You’re okay, sweeties,” Mum said. “We’ll take care of it. Your sister… she still needs healing. A lot of healing…”

Harriet heard the door shut with a quiet click.

“Harriet, honey,” Mum said softly. “What’s going on? What is this?”

Harriet buried her face deeper into Daddy’s shoulder in response. He sighed softly, stroking Harriet’s hair.

“Rora… think it’s time we contacted Dr Bishop…”

## * * * *

Harriet was alone in her room. Daddy had brought her dinner the night before. She hadn’t eaten it. Nor had she eaten breakfast this morning. She was still too horrified for an appetite. She hadn’t even changed clothes from yesterday.

_You are a freak, so’s Sirius_! the voice in her head was telling her. _Finn’s never going to accept a freak like you. No one is._

Harriet rolled over, looking at the clock on her bedside table. It was almost noon. She had no intention of getting up. She didn’t deserve food.

She heard the approaching feet coming up the steps. It was Daddy or Mum. They were bringing her lunch. Harriet rolled back over, her back to the door.

There was a gentle knock. It was Mum. The door opened.

“Harriet, sweetie…?” Mum said gently. “You have a visitor.”

Harriet didn’t say anything.

“Please come downstairs, sweetie,” Mum continued. “He can help. He’s down in the sitting room. Come along, love.”

Harriet ever so slowly sat up. Her back was till to the door. She didn’t want to look Mum in the face.

“Be right down…” Harriet said, her voice barely louder than a whisper.

Mum must have heard her. She didn’t say anything, but Harriet heard her walking off and slowly descending.

Harriet swung her legs out of bed. She felt she had to concentrate on her walking as she put one foot in front of the other. She made her way down the stairs, ignoring their creaking. Nanette and Rosie’s door was closed. Shame took over her again. How could she ever look them in the face again after that?

Harriet steeled her tiny bit of reserve left and continued past their room. Finally, she came to the sitting room. Daddy was waiting for her at the door. He smiled at her, but Harriet could see the pain in his face. Panic began to take Harriet again. What if they wouldn’t adopt her, now? What if she was too much for them?

“He’s right in here, honey,” Daddy said, gesturing into the room.

Harriet said nothing. She kept her head low as she moved past him and into the room. Her eyes were fixed on her feet.

“Ah, hello Harriet,” said a new, gentle, high-pitched man’s voice.

Slowly Harriet looked up. Her eyes sprang open at once.

There was a man she did not recognize sitting in the arm-chair across from Mum. Harriet noticed nothing about his clothing, noticing nothing but the fact this man had the face, orange fur, and tail of a cat.

Once that initial shock wore off, Harriet noticed that he had a head of black hair, and was wearing a simple white button up shirt, with a blue and purple striped tie, and grey slacks. Despite the cat’s-features, Harriet could see he was smiling at her. He had cat-pupils, but had bright green irises.

“Harriet, this is Doctor Sebastian Bishop,” Mum said. “He’s here to talk to you about everything that’s happened, if you want?”

Harriet remained silent. She was suddenly visited by a memory, one of Hermione with the face of a black-cat.

Harriet slowly nodded. “Okay…”

Mum looked a little relieved, and rose. She moved towards Harriet. As she passed, Mum went to put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder. Harriet, having not expected it, jerked to the side, away from her hand. Mum bit her lip.

“Sorry, sweetie,” Mum said under her breath.

“Sorry…” Harriet mumbled.

Mum moved on to the door. Daddy gave Harriet a sad smile, and gently shut the door after Mum.

Harriet returned her attention to Dr Bishop. He was still smiling at her pleasantly, his tail gently swishing. He extended a hand to the seat that Mum had just vacated.

“Would you like to have a seat? You don’t have to, of course, but I’m sure it would be more comfortable than standing?” Dr Bishop suggested.

Harriet didn’t reply, except to walk over and sit in the chair. Dr Bishop smiled, seeming encouraged.

“Well, as your mother said, I am Dr Bishop. I’m a psychiatrist. I help people who’re hurt in ways that don’t show on the outside, necessarily.”

Harriet kept looking at Dr Bishop.

“Was it Polyjuice?” she asked.

Dr Bishop raised his eyebrows. “How…? Well I mean—hehe—yes, as a matter of fact.” 

Harriet nodded. “A friend of mine had that happen our second year.”

“Is that so?” Dr Bishop asked, pleasantly.

“Yeah,” Harriet said. “She got better after a few weeks, though.”

“Ah,” Dr Bishop chuckled. “She must be a far better potioneer than I’d deluded myself into believing I was.”

Harriet blinked. “Huh?”

Dr Bishop’s smile became forced. “Well… there’s no going back for me, I’m afraid. Quite permanent, but I do my best.”

“When did it happen?”

“My third year,” Dr Bishop explained. “I wanted to see if I could. I could not.”

Harriet nodded.

“You may also call me Sebastian, if you like,” Dr Bishop said, changing the subject, “I don’t think we have to be so formal.”

“Okay,” Harriet replied simply.

“So, I’m not going to pretend I don’t have an idea of what’s been going on, already,” Sebastian said, “The…the unfortunate stories in the papers, and your parents gave me some general information on what has been going on, of course.”

Harriet grimaced. “They’re not my parents…”

“Ah, right, not your _biological_ parents, it’s just they told me you have been referring to them as ‘mum’ and ‘daddy’ lately. They also said they’re planning on adopting you as soon as they’re married, so I figured that would be the most comforting way to address them. I’m sorry if that wasn’t the case?”

Harriet pondered this. They told Sebastian they were still going to adopt her? They didn’t think she was too much, after all? Suddenly, Harriet’s mood began to climb ever so slightly.

“No, it’s ok,” she said, “You’re right.”

“Oh, splendid! Now I don’t want to overdo things right out of the gate,” Sebastian explained. “I want you to feel comfortable enough to discuss anything that may be on your mind, even if it’s painful. I take it your relationship with your other family was… abusive.”

Harriet nodded.

“I thought so,” Sebastian sighed. “I couldn’t help but notice you jerked when your mother tried to comfort you. It’s an understandable reaction, it’s how you’ve been taught parental figures treat you when you’re ‘in trouble’—Not that you are!” Sebastian corrected hurriedly. “They just want to help you. Even your sisters.”

Harriet grimaced. “You spoke to Nan and Rosie…?”

“I did, yes,” Sebastian said. “Briefly. They’re very worried about you. But don’t worry, I won’t tell them anything we discuss. Anything and everything we talk about will remain just between us. You’re safe here, I’m only here to help.”

Harriet didn’t say anything. She wasn’t sure what to say.

“Um, you mentioned your friend a moment ago,” Sebastian smiled. “What’s their name? I’m eager to learn more about this daring potion master of yours.”

“Hermione,” Harriet replied. “There’s also Ronnie, and Kieran, and Scott, and Marcus, and Dora. We’ve been friends since our first year.”

“Aw, that’s fantastic!”

“Ronnie was my first friend,” Harriet explained. “She’s… rough, but she cares a lot. Then was Hermione. We’re all in the same dorm, in Gryffindor. Well, me, Ronnie, and Hermione are. Dora’s a Slytherin.”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Gosh, a Slytherin making friends with Gryffindors? What’s all this? Next you’ll tell me dogs and cats are living together,” he chuckled good-naturedly.

Harriet snorted but smiled. “Yeah, it was an awkward friendship. She’s the descendent of Nicolas Flamel. She helped us find his Philosopher’s Stone our first year. Professor Dumbledore was hiding it at Hogwarts.”

Harriet blinked. How was she being so open already? She’d just barely met this man.

“Ahhhh, yes,” Sebastian nodded, still smiling. “There is indeed the rumour that you’re the adventurous type,” he chuckled.

“Heh, I guess so,” Harriet smiled a little more, still blushing. “Let me think… I’ve been nearly crushed by a troll, nearly eaten by massive spiders…”

Harriet felt herself shrink slightly. She was starting to think of all the bad things that had happened to her.

Sebastian seemed to know what she was thinking. “It’s okay, Harriet… we don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to. Everything is on your own time.”

“Thanks…” Harriet said, sounding as grateful as she felt.

“So, what about the boys?” Sebastian asked. “What houses are they in?”

“Kieran and Marcus are Gryffindors, too. Kieran’s the sweetest guy I know. I’ve probably opened up to him more than I have anyone else. Marcus is sweet, too, but he can be a bit hot-headed. He kept setting things on fire our first year. I also think he has something for Hermione, which is really cute…”

Harriet took a breath. “Scott’s in Ravenclaw. He and Kieran have been best friends for like… ever. They grew up just down the road from each other.”

Sebastian kept smiling, leaning forward intently.

“Scott’s really smart, just like Hermione. They go back and forth over like… who’s the best in the year. Heh, Hermione used to fancy Scott a little, but then he… well…” Harriet shrank a little. “That’s private.”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Sebastian said. “Like I said, I won’t press you on anything you’re not comfortable with.”

“Okay… ummm…” Harriet thought. What else was there to talk about? She wasn’t sure she was ready to talk about anything that had happened. Not the graveyard, not Finn, not the attack, not last night.

“Well, do you have any questions for me?” Sebastian asked. “About our sessions, or just anything?”

Harriet thought. Unbidden, a tiny hint of mischief entered Harriet’s mind.

“Any question? Like why is the sky blue?”

Sebastian’s smile grew. “Oh, good question! There are tiny molecules of water in the air. So, when the sun is directly overhead, its light hits these molecules, they scatter blue light. When the sun is rising or setting, the blue light we usually see is being scattered out of our line of sight, and so we see mostly red light… you were being silly, weren’t you?”

Harriet giggled. “Yeah, a little. But hey, now I know, right?”

“Knowledge is power,” Sebastian chuckled, then touched his nose knowingly.

Harriet thought again. Now, a more serious question crossed her mind. “What… what did Mum and Daddy tell you?”

“Well, let’s see…” Sebastian mused. “They told me how you had been attacked—of course, you understand—I did know a bit about that already, with it being in the papers and all.”

Harriet hugged her chest, studying the pattern on the left arm of the chair.

“They filled in one or two of the blanks in regards to how the situation was handled. About those youngblood Aurors, the Ministry... well I’ll not get myself started on that. But they…well they also told me we seem to have a mutual acquaintance. Finnbar?”

Harriet’s eyes widened, “ _You_ know Finn?”

“I know Sherrod Howe. He introduced me to Finn only once. I…” Sebastian bit his lip. “I was in St. Mungo’s recently, and they visited me. We didn’t speak much, but he played his guitar for us, and…he seemed like a kind soul, worth fighting for.”

“He is…” Harriet blushed.

“The crimes at Rathlin have affected us all I think. Between that and everything else… personally, I’m amazed to see just how well you’ve handled it.”

“Yeah, freaking out and punching mirrors,” Harriet mumbled.

Sebastian gave her a kind smile. “Of course you’re angry, Harriet,” he said gently. “That’s perfectly acceptable and expected. You’re right to be angry. But you should be careful. No one wants you hurting yourself more than you already have been. It’s okay to be angry, but the danger is letting that anger control you. Do you follow me?”

Harriet processed this. She supposed she saw what he meant. She didn’t like having her hand hurt all the time, that was for sure.

“I guess,” Harriet said.

“And that’s about the long and short of it. All I really wanted was an overview, so I wasn’t walking in totally blind.”

“That makes sense…” Harriet admitted.

“So, for the future, where do you think we might want to start?” Sebastian asked. “The more recent events, going back? Or start at the beginning?”

Harriet pondered. “Maybe the beginning, I guess…”

“That sounds excellent,” Sebastian agreed. “You’ve lived a hard life, and we have a lot to go through.”

Harriet wasn’t really listening. She was starting to remember more. Sebastian had been mentioned before. The night of the attack, the healer who tended her had brought him up. The healer had said Sebastian had just returned from America.

“Can I ask something else?”

“Of course,” Sebastian replied.

“I… overheard once that you were just in America?”

The corner of Sebastian’s mouth twitched, and his ears drooped.

“Ah, yes… yes I was…” Sebastian leaned back in his chair, looking off, thinking. “I was the base psychiatrist at Fort Kelso when Bakersfield was attacked. It… was not pleasant, Harriet. I don’t know what you’ve heard about Bakersfield, but…” He sighed, and shook his head. 

Harriet grimaced. “Really…? It’s still that bad?”

“It is, I’m afraid,” Sebastian said, “I wouldn’t dare give you the gory details, but… let’s just say I’m lucky to be here with you right now.” He gave a much sadder smile than before.

“I have some other friends who’re from America,” Harriet said. “I worry about them… about what’s going to happen…”

Sebastian nodded, giving her a sympathetic look. “I imagine so. You’re a compassionate person from what I’ve seen and heard. You care about people. It’s a wonderful quality, especially at your age, in a time like this.”

“Thank you,” Harriet said. “Okay, so happier subject… did you go to Hogwarts?”

“I did,” Sebastian replied. “Class of ’69.”

“What house were you in?”

Sebastian’s whiskers twitched. “Hmmmm, let’s see if you can guess?”

Harriet considered him, thinking. Harriet looked over his tie. “Hmmmm, Ravenclaw?”

“Close,” Sebastian chuckled, winking.

Harriet’s jaw dropped. “No!”

Sebastian laughed and covered his furred head with his arms. “Gah! Don’t hate me!”

“ _You_ were a Slytherin?” Harriet asked.

Sebastian sighed melodramatically. “Alas… I was. Not all ambition is a bad thing, you know. My deepest ambition has always been to help people. I was willing to do anything to do it. As you see—” He indicated his face “—I did face some consequences.”

Harriet nodded. “It’s cool you’re so okay with that,” she said. “I don’t know if I’d be…”

“Well, you have your own mark that singles you out,” Sebastian said. “I think you’re going to be fine no matter what comes your way. I’m just here to make sure, and help you get there.”

Harriet finally grinned.


	4. Clues and Breakthroughs

“An ear, a helping hand, a gentle shoulder, all can do wonders in helping one deal with grief. I most certainly could have used one after we laid my brother to rest…”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

That night, Harriet sat down at her desk and took out her quill, ink, and parchment.

 

_Dear Dudley,_

_I’m sorry for not writing back sooner, I only just got your letters a couple days ago. I’m okay. Or as okay as I can be right now. I’m seeing a doctor about what I’m going through. He’s really nice. He listens, and he seems like he really cares. I don’t know how many times I’ll get to see him before we leave. I can’t really say where we’re going, I don’t think. There are really bad people after me, and I don’t want them coming after you to try and get to me._

_I want to know about you. Are you okay? You saw all that horror too. I don’t know how I can ever thank you for what you did. You were so brave. And of course I never would have let Kinney (that’s his name, Solomon Kinney) kill you. He’s one of the people who’s after me. I think. No one really knows what his deal is. But that’s why I have to go away for a while. People like him are out there, and while he is, everyone around me is in danger._

Harriet stopped writing. She suddenly felt afraid. Kinney knew about the Dursleys. He had to. Why else would he have been in Little Whinging? But that would mean that Crouch, Jr must know too. Yet they must also know that Harriet wasn’t living with them anymore. Would they go after the Dursleys to find her? Was Harriet putting Dudley in more danger by writing back to him? Harriet shook her head, and resumed writing.

 

_I don’t know how much I can write. I don’t want to put you in any more danger than you might be already. I just want you to know I’m okay, I’m safe, and well—_ Harriet paused, thinking again— _and I’m going to miss you. As crazy as that is after all these years of more or less hating each other. I’ll never forget what you did for me._

_I don’t want you to worry about me. I’m with good people who’re doing everything to take care of me. I’ll be with my friends. I’ll be somewhere really well protected. Just take care of yourself and your parents. Especially your mum._

_I’ll write when I can._

_Love,_

_Harriet_

 

Harriet reread the letter. She supposed it was okay. She didn’t know what else to say, really. She was touched by how concerned Dudley seemed, but she was still at a loss for words.

Harriet put the letter into an envelope. She would take it downstairs to Daddy so he could take it to Mrs Figg. Harriet stretched, leaning back in her chair. She could hear a voice through the floor from below her. Rosie was singing again. She often did. It occurred to Harriet she had never asked what the twins had studied at Rathlin. Or much of anything about the school at all.

Harriet stood up. She closed her eyes, taking calming breaths like Sebastian had taught her. She had not yet taken her medicine for that night. He had prescribed her three drops of essence of beggartick in a glass of water before bed for a week. Harriet, remembering the last time she’d had beggartick, had secretly been a little excited about this, until Sebastian ‘reassured’ her that it would only produce a calming effect rather than the vivid dreams.

After a week of the beggartick, Harriet was to take Draught of Dreamless Sleep before bed for two weeks. Harriet had been a little reassured by that. All the while, she was to take a calming draught with hot chocolate with breakfast. _Doctor prescribed hot chocolate? Where’s the downside to this?_

Rosie kept singing. Harriet had to do this. She had to face the twins. She had to apologize and explain to them. Sebastian would be proud of her for it.

Despite wanting to start at the beginning, Harriet had told him a little about the night before. She had left out many details, of course. She had not told him about the clothesline, just that the twins had found something 'personal' and it set her off. Harriet was relieved that he seemed to take her meaning.

“ _These things mean different things to different people, Harriet. Whatever it was the twins found, it means something very different to you than it does to them.”_

_“Didn’t make it any easier to see.”_

_“No, I don’t imagine so. On the other hand, it seems to upset you—people knowing about this secret of yours. Is that right?”_

_“Yeah...”_

_“You’re afraid of what people will think? Hmmm…may I ask a personal question, without sounding too prying?”_

_“Sure.”_

_“Is this secret of yours sexual in nature?”_

Harriet had nodded.

_“Ahh, that would explain it... Things like that can be trying for anyone. Many adults deal with the fear of rejection over such things; they feel it is a deep stigma, something shameful. For someone like you, still growing and learning about these things, it can be all the more scary. But you say the twins were playing with your ‘secret.’ They didn’t seem to think it scary, did they?”_

Harriet had thought. They looked like they were having fun. They were even using it for the reason Harriet had it. It hadn’t been scary at all. Maybe that was it? It was something so deeply personal to her, yet they were joking and laughing about it.

_“No. It was like it was a game.”_

_“You felt as though they were mocking it?”_

_“Yeah... I think so... that’s part of it anyway.”_

Sebastian had sighed. _“I’m sorry, Harriet. I won’t ask what it is, but you’ve had bad experiences with this interest before?”_

_“Yeah. One of my aunts caught me, once. She hit me.”_

Sebastian didn’t say anything. He just kept studying her with his bright green eyes and their slit pupils. Despite his feline face, Harriet could see the sadness on his face. His tail had stopped swishing.

_“I guess I got her back, in a way. I inflated her like a balloon. I didn’t mean to...”_

_“Ahhh, accidental magic, eh? A perfectly understandable reaction. I know I broke quite a few windows in my day, you can imagine. Anyhow, please, do go on?”_

_“Yeah, well, then Professor Howe showed up. He and his friend Watkins were watching the house. They deflated her. But I’ll never forget what she called me._ Freak. _I hear it. I call myself that every time something bad comes up with it. And sometimes not even then. Most anytime I feel bad about myself I hear that word, over and over. Freak. Freak. Freak…”_

Sebastian had leaned forward in his chair then.

“ _Harriet, there are no judgements here. I promise you if you were to tell me more, it wouldn’t change how I see you at all. Is there any other hint you feel comfortable giving me? I can only help you so much if I don’t know exactly what’s troubling you.”_

Harriet had thought about it. She was very tempted. He was so sincere. Yet she had only ever really told Kieran and Sirius about it. She only told Kieran because she had to tell somebody something. She told Sirius because he shared the interest. She just wasn’t ready yet.

_“I understand. When you’re ready. If you’re ready. But consider... if your sisters weren’t that upset about it, maybe it’s not as shameful as you’ve been led to think?”_

Harriet pondered this hard. There was something to that. The twins were treating it like a game. Nothing scary at all.

She kept listening to Rosie singing. She had to go. She had to do it. She wasn’t ready to tell Sebastian, but the twins deserved an answer.

Harriet opened the door and slowly made her way down to the room below hers. The door was half open. Nan was lying on the floor, her paints out. She was totally focused, painting in something. Harriet could see paint on her face. Harriet moved close enough to see that it was a painting of Kreacher. Harriet was impressed that she seemed to be painting it from memory.

She listened to what Rosie was singing now. It was very different music from what Finn usually sang. It was soft, smooth, and soulful.

 

“ _Observe her flame that placid dame the Moon’s Celestial Highness_

_There’s not a trace upon her face of diffidence or shyness_

_She borrows light that through the night, mankind may all acclaim her_

_And truth to tell, she lights up well so I for one don’t blame her.”_

 

Harriet waited for Rosie to finish before she gently knocked on their door. Nan saw Harriet and Harriet felt a pang of guilt when Nan’s face went a bit pale. The door opened and Rosie’s face fell as well.

“Oh... hi...” Rosie said.

“Hi...” Harriet replied. She took sudden interest in the pattern on the rug.

She took a steeling breath. “I’m sorry... I’m so sorry about yesterday...”

Neither Nan or Rosie said anything. Harriet felt the pain of their accusatory looks burning in her.

“Anyway, I just... wanted you to know... I’m sorry...” Harriet muttered. She slowly turned but heard Rosie sigh and take hold of her arm.

“Nuh-uh,” Rosie said. “We’re talking.”

Harriet grimaced. “Why? I don’t even want to talk to me...”

“We just wanna help,” Nan said, sitting up on her knees. “We weren’t thinking... like... it’s just rope...”

Harriet winced. _Just rope? She’d been hit for playing with that before._

“It’s... it’s not to me...” Harriet admitted. “But I can’t expect you to know that...”

The twins kept looking at Harriet. They exchanged a look and to Harriet’s surprise, Rosie stepped aside and opened the door wider.

“Want to come in?” Rosie asked.

Harriet looked back and forth between the two. Her legs were telling her to leave, yet her brain was making them stay.

“Okay,” Harriet finally managed to say.

She stepped inside and walked into the middle of the room, between the girls’ beds. Rosie sat next to Nan, and held out a hand to the spot in front of the two.

Slowly, Harriet sat. She kept looking at the twins. Now she was here, she had absolutely no idea what she was going to say. Luckily, Rosie didn’t let the silence linger long. Unfortunately, it was with the last question Harriet wanted to answer.

“So... why do you have that stuff?” Rosie asked.

“Rosie!” Nan hissed, warningly.

Rosie shrugged. “It must be bad, but Harriet, we’re gonna be sisters. Mom already calls you our sister.”

Nan chewed her lip, looking back at Harriet. Harriet hugged her chest a bit, rubbing her arms.

This felt so weird. On the one hand she felt on the spot. On the other, she felt she owed them something of an explanation for her explosion.

“I... well... you know how Nancy gets like...”

“Tied up?” Nan asked. “Like we were doing?”

Harriet looked away. She was starting to rock a little, still hugging her chest. She couldn’t stop herself.

“Y-yes,” Harriet managed to choke out. “I... I like it.”

The twins’ expressions were still bemused, yet still concerned.

“You like being tied up?” Nan asked. “Like, kidnapped and stuff?”

“I... I guess...” Harriet mumbled. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Is it cuz Sirius kidnapped you that one time?” Rosie asked.

“What? No,” Harriet said. “I liked it before that.”

The twins kept looking at her. They clearly did not quite understand. Harriet wondered if that was for the best.

“So, you think about—like—being kidnapped and like... tickled or something?” Rosie asked, not exactly looking Harriet straight on.

“Um, I suppose,” Harriet said. She remembered one of her dreams with Finn had involved being tickled a little. But not very much. “Why—”

“No reason,” Rosie cut Harriet off.  “Just asking.”

Harriet studied Rosie a moment. Her face was a bit paler than usual. Harriet decided not to push it.

“So, anyway... yeah that stuff was really personal to me... the last time I had it out and did anything with it... one of my aunts caught me. And she hit me.”

The twins gasped.

“Is that why you thought Dad was going to hit you?” Nan asked, her voice barely a whisper.

Harriet nodded. At once, both the twins moved forward, hugging her. Harriet froze, but slowly hugged them back.

“We won’t go near it again, promise,” Nan said.

Harriet sighed. “Thanks... I have a lot of issues with... _everything_ ,” Harriet admitted. “I’m sorry you two have to put up with them.”

The twins sat back and Rosie shrugged. “Mom said you did... we’ve learned a lot since yeah, our family started...”

“Yeah,” Nan agreed. “We never had a life like what you’ve been through.”

“Like when we were little Mom didn’t have much money, but Gramma and Grandpa helped,” Rosie explained.

“Then when we moved here, we had Rathlin, and Mom would visit every day.”

“Yeah, we lived a pretty charmed life…”

“Worst things we had to deal with growing up was stuff like Mom not letting us blow bubbles in our chocolate milk…”

Harriet snorted. “Blowing bubbles in chocolate milk?”

“It’s fun!”

“At least it was at the time…”

Harriet laughed. “I don’t think the Dursleys would have let me do that either, if it makes you feel any better?”

The twins grimaced. “Not really, they’re terrible,” Rosie growled.

“They’re…” Harriet tripped over her words. If she was being honest, they had been terrible most of her life. And yet, when it all really counted, Dudley had, for sure, come through. And they had taken her in to keep her safe. That had to count for something. It certainly didn’t erase the years of torment and abuse, but it wasn’t nothing.

Harriet looked down at Nan’s painting. She puzzled for a moment. She usually imagined people sitting at an easel when painting.

“Why are you painting lying down?” Harriet asked.

Nan shrugged. “I think better that way.”

Rosie smiled. “Yeah, she does everything lying down.”

“I like space. I feel too closed-up sitting at desks. Besides, this way the paint can’t run.”

Harriet smiled. “That’s fair I guess. It’s really pretty so far,” Harriet said. “For Kreacher…”

“Thanks!” Nan grinned. “I guess I thought about what you said about him having things rough. I thought maybe this would cheer him up a little.”

Harriet beamed. That was a wonderful gesture, she thought.

“And what were you singing?” Harriet asked Rosie.

“ _The Sun, Whose Rays Are All Ablaze_ ,” Rosie replied. “It’s an aria from Gilbert and Sullivan’s _The Mikado_.”

“Huh,” Harriet said. “Well, it’s really pretty.”

“Thanks,” Rosie smiled, a little smugly. “It was my audition piece for the junior academy.”

“So you were a… music major? That’s how it is at Rathlin, right?”

Both Rosie and Nan’s faces fell. Harriet grimaced. She realized she was dragging up an issue that must have been painful for them both. Perhaps even more painful than it was for Harriet.

“Sorry,” Harriet said quickly. “You… you both must have lost friends in that too…”

Nan and Rosie were quiet for a moment.

“Well my best friend was Niamh, your friend Kieran’s cousin,” Rosie said. “So she’s safe—she’s a witch—but yeah, I knew kids who must have been Obliviated… suppose she’ll have to come to Hogwarts now. That’ll be fun, I guess…”

“I didn’t really have any friends,” Nan said. “Not till I got to Hogwarts. Why I’m excited to go to the Flamels. I really like Emma. She’s quiet and artsy like me.”

Harriet leaned over pulling the twins into another hug.

“I promise I’m going to try and be more chill from here on,” Harriet said. “Just… promise not to dig too much through my stuff, okay?”

“Okay,” the girls replied.

“Can we still read your _Nancy Drew_ books?” Rosie asked.

Harriet smiled gently. “Of course.”

“And are we still sisters?” Nan asked.

Harriet’s smile grew. “Of course.”

## * * * *

Harriet hurried up the stairs to her room. They had just finished with dinner after another Order meeting. Sirius wasn’t there. Harriet wondered if he was still looking for Finn. However, since she didn’t know if Sirius was really supposed to be looking for Finn, she hadn’t asked.

That was not all that was on Harriet’s mind. Daddy had informed her that due to her therapy sessions, Professor Snape had decided to not teach her Occlumency until she returned to Hogwarts in the fall. This made Harriet borderline furious.

Yes, she was having troubles, but she wasn’t helpless. She could study magic. This was just stupid Professor Snape avoiding her again. Just like he always did. Just like every time he overlooked her cauldron in Potions, even though she tried her hardest every time.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. She had stopped trying quite as hard over the years, but Professor Snape’s dogged determination to ignore her. All because he fancied her mother. Maybe he felt guilty over that whole ‘killing her’ thing. If so, good.

Harriet closed her bedroom door behind her and quickly pulled out the real reason she had hurried up to her room: the newspaper she had hidden under her hoodie. It had been left behind on the table, she supposed by accident. The title had made Harriet grab it the moment she was sure no one was looking. It had been awkward sitting with it at the table, but Daddy and Mum seemed distracted.

Harriet read the headline again.

 

_MORE SHOCKING ALLEGATIONS AGAINST DUMBLDORE IN POTTER ATTACK CASE_

 

Harriet sat at her desk, reading the article.

 

_The Ministry today has released further statements in regard to the attack on Harriet Potter by six Muggle boys earlier this summer. Contrary to earlier reports, it was not in fact Miss Potter’s Muggle cousin who saved her from the attack, but nonother than Solomon Nehemiah Kinney, the infamous terrorist who has caused such havoc over the past two years._

Harriet’s hands tightened into fists as she gripped the newspaper.

 

_As the Ministry has also reported, Solomon Kinney recently kidnapped Miss Potter from the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Details of what happened remain murky, but eye-witness accounts state that Miss Potter, upon her return, spoke of a returned You-Know-Who._

_It is unclear whether Miss Potter escaped from Kinney’s clutches, or was set loose._

 

“WHAT?!” Harriet shouted, rising from her seat and causing Hedwig and DIDS, her tiny toy dragon, to squawk and hiss in agitation.

 

_The Ministry has made it clear that there is no evidence whatsoever of this being true. They state that Solomon Kinney’s goal has always been to destabilize magical society in Britain. This has been evidenced by his attack on the_ Daily Prophet _headquarters, his burning of the village of Hogsmeade with fiendfyre, and his recent assassinations of Igor Karkaroff and Ludo Bagman. Kinney even went so far as to have the Dark Mark fired into the air over Bagman’s body to drive this home._

_As the_ Prophet _has recently reported, the Ministry is investigating possible connections between Albus Dumbledore, disgraced and disappeared former headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and Solomon Kinney. Many have questioned just how Solomon Kinney was able to infiltrate Hogwarts School. Between Kinney’s flitting in and out of the school unchallenged, and this new revelation about Kinney coming to Miss Potter’s aid, it seems further connection between the two can be made._

_A contact within the Ministry, under conditions of anonymity, revealed to_ The Daily Prophet _that in a similar incident many years ago, Albus Dumbledore’s own father was arrested for savagely attacking three Muggle boys._

Harriet’s hands weren’t shaking with anger anymore. She was too shocked. Professor Dumbledore’s father had been arrested for attacking muggles?

 

_No details were left as to what happened to the boys in question, but Albus Dumbledore’s father was sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. Something it seems the now infamous former headmaster, once thought a champion of Muggle rights, has worked hard to keep quiet._

_Can it be mere coincidence that Solomon Kinney could enter and leave Hogwarts so easily, kidnap Miss Potter from the middle of thousands of onlookers, and furthermore just happen upon Miss Potter in the middle of a Muggle neighbourhood? Only Albus Dumbledore and the highest levels of the Ministry of Magic have been privy to the exact location of Miss Potter’s whereabouts._

_“We at the Ministry are working very hard to keep Miss Potter as far away from Albus Dumbledore as possible,” said one Percy Weasley, an assistant in the Minister of Magic’s office told reporters._

 

Harriet blinked and stared. Percy? It couldn’t be _that_ Percy Weasley? Not that Harriet could think of anyone else who could possibly have that name. He was working in Fudge’s office now? Last Harriet knew Percy was in big trouble over the disappearance and death of Crouch, Sr, his old boss. What was he doing working for Fudge, now? Was he a spy for the Order as well?

Harriet shook her head and read on.

 

_“It is clear to us that Miss Potter has been used and manipulated by Albus Dumbledore for his own gains. He has filled her head with all sorts of nonsense about everything from defeating You-Know-Who in only her first year to killing a basilisk during her second year.”_

 

Harriet’s rage returned so quickly she tore the front page in half. She couldn’t read anymore. She threw the paper down on the floor and paced her room.

How could he? How could any of them? Percy was telling the _Daily Prophet_ that Harriet had imagined facing Lord Voldemort? That she’d only fought a basilisk in her mind? That Professor Dumbledore was making her imagine things?

There was a little knock on the door.

“Yeah?” Harriet said, unable to keep her anger out of her voice.

“Permission to enter?” came Sirius’ voice.

Harriet gasped. She hurried to the door, yanking it open.

“Sirius!” Harriet said, hugging him tight.

“Oof,” Sirius grunted as Harriet collided with his midsection.

“Did you find him?” Harriet asked at once, looking up at Sirius hopefully.

Sirius’ smile remained, but his face still fell.

“Kind of,” Sirius said. “Let’s sit and talk.”

Harriet grimaced. She didn’t know how much more bad news she could take. Sirius stepped into the room but paused at the sight of the torn newspaper on the floor.

“Ah…” he said rubbing the back of his head. “You found that, eh?”

Harriet glared at it. “Yes…”

Sirius sighed. “Yeah… the _Prophet’s_ been a real treat, lately,” he growled darkly. “Articles that totally contradict each other, but no one seems to care. People just seem to read the articles they like and disregard what they don’t. _Prophet_ must be making a mint.”

Harriet kicked the paper across the room. She couldn’t help herself. Sirius chuckled.

“Yeah, about all it’s good for,” he said.

Harriet sank into her desk chair as Sirius sat on the edge of her bed, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“So, I’ll get the bad news out of the way, first,” he said.

“You haven’t found him,” Harriet guessed.

“No,” Sirius said. “I haven’t. _But_ , there is good news. I have found leads.”

Harriet’s heart began racing almost at once.

“What? What have you found?”

Sirius gave her a sad smile. “I have found some people who’ve seen him. Or at least someone matching his description just about perfectly. Tall, brown curly hair, a bit scruffy, blue eyes, wearing a peaky, sings to himself…”

Harriet felt her eyes go as wide as they could.

“Trouble is… I don’t have anything to go on as a scent,” Sirius grumbled. “I could probably smell him out in my dog form, but Belfast is no Hogsmeade… it’s going to take some looking.”

Harriet’s eyes darted at once to Finn on the desk. Sirius followed her gaze and sighed, shaking his head.

“No, that won’t work… his scent will be too diluted by now… it’s been handled too much by too many people for too long.”

Harriet felt defeat sinking in.

“I’m still looking,” Sirius said. “I’m only here because I have another appointment tomorrow. After that I’m going to be right back out there hunting. I swear.”

Harriet didn’t feel cheered. She was starting to worry even more. How was Finn getting food? He wasn’t magic. Was he going to starve? Where was he sleeping?

“Everyone who saw him said he seemed in good spirits…”

“Who saw him?” Harriet asked, anxious for any information at all.

Sirius rubbed his head, thinking. “Let’s see… a grocer saw him. Thought he was trying to steal food. Then thought he was ‘special’—as she called it—because he didn’t seem to know what money was. Just knew he was hungry… They took him to a shelter, got him some food there. He kept saying he had to go somewhere, but he couldn’t remember where. Said he had to meet someone there, but he couldn’t remember who. Couldn’t make heads nor tails of it myself.”

Harriet couldn’t either. She was starting to feel very low indeed.

Sirius sighed. “Unfortunately, it seems he wandered off again… seems they underestimated just how determined he was to get wherever he thinks he has to go… I’m sorry, Harriet… I really wish I had better news, or any good news.”

“I know,” Harriet said hugging him. “You’re the only one who is and I can’t thank you enough.”

They held the hug for a while. Harriet was thinking. Where could Finn be going? Did that mean not all his memories were gone? Suddenly, a light clicked in Harriet’s mind.

“What direction did he seem to be going?”

Sirius rubbed his chin in thought. “I… it seemed to be south…”

Harriet thought harder. “The twins! They’d know!”

Harriet released Sirius and hurried from the room and down the stairs. She stopped at her sisters’ room and knocked frantically on the door. It opened, Nan giving her a very confused look.

“Nan!” Harriet said. “What’s south from Belfast in Ireland?”

Nan blinked. “Oh, dunno, we never went to the mainland much. But…”

“Biggest city south of Belfast is Dublin,” came Rosie’s voice from out of sight.

“DUBLIN!” Harriet exclaimed. “Finn’s from Dublin! He’s heading back to Dublin! He’s going home!”

Harriet ran back up the stairs. She was out of breath in her excitement.

“Sirius!” Harriet said. “Finn’s from Dublin! He’s going home!”

“I heard! I heard!” Sirius laughed. “I’ll start looking in that direction first thing tomorrow after my appointment.”

Harriet gave a shriek and hugged Sirius once more. For the first time in weeks, Harriet had hope. True hope.

## * * * *

“My, you certainly seem in better spirits today,” Sebastian said, smiling.

“Yeah,” Harriet grinned. “Surprising to me too, considering most things the last few days haven’t really left me feeling that great.”

“Oh?” Sebastian leaned back in his chair looking at Harriet with concern. “Like what?”

Harriet grimaced. “Well, like I found out the _Daily Prophet_ is using that attack on me to go after Dumbledore… plus the shock of finding out about his father was… yeah.”

Sebastian sighed nodding. “Ahhh yes, I saw that article. If I remember correctly, it was lining the bottom of a bird cage somewhere.”

Harriet snorted a laugh, and Sebastian gave a knowing wink.

“Hehe, of course I believe it no more than you do. Or anyone else in the Order.”

“You’re in the Order now?” Harriet asked.

“Oh no,” Sebastian said. “I’m a doctor, not a soldier. But I certainly know enough. My ex-wife lost her entire family the last time You-Know—I mean, _Voldemort_ —was powerful.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“Heh, sorry,” Sebastian said sheepishly, “Sherrod always gave me grief over not saying the name.”

“You should be in the Order,” Harriet said. “Lots of them say his name. Even if you can’t fight, you’re already helping a lot.”

“Thank you,” Sebastian smiled. “Is that to say you say his name as well?”

Harriet couldn’t help but smile with a bit of pride. “Never knew I was supposed to be afraid of it. Just kept saying it.”

“Incredibly admirable,” Sebastian chortled. “I suppose that goes to show that not all ignorance is bad, eh?”

Harriet smiled more. “That’s just what Professor Dumbledore said.”

Harriet’s mood fell at once. She remembered the article again.

“Ah yes, we’re back to that,” Sebastian sighed. “You seem to look up to Professor Dumbledore, am I right?”

“I…” Harriet thought. “I used to…”

Sebastian raised his furred eyebrows. “Used to? The article had that big an impact?”

Harriet stared off into a corner of the room, trying to put her thoughts into words.

“No, it was before that,” she finally explained. “It was when I found out it was him who kept Daddy from adopting me for all those years… he said it was because when my mother died, it put some magical protection on me that kept Voldemort from hurting me so long as I lived with my Aunt; my ‘mother’s blood.’”

“And you think he was wrong?”

Harriet felt her anger rising again. Despite Dudley coming to her rescue, and Aunt Petunia finally coming clean about her feelings for Harriet’s mother, that wasn’t enough. That couldn’t be enough. That didn’t erase all those years of hell.

“YES!” Harriet practically shouted. “Yes, he was! He even said so! But that’s still not okay! That doesn’t make it okay! They made my bedroom a cupboard under the stairs! A cupboard under the stairs! They’d lock me in it when they were mad at me! Which was like _every_ day! No matter how much I tried to please them!”

Harriet was out of her chair now. She was pacing the rug in the middle of the floor.

“They told me my parents died in a car crash! They were trying to ‘squash the magic’ out of me! Before my second year they moved me into the spare room, but then they put a padlock on the door and bars on the windows! They fed me with food on a plate through a cat-flap! I was only saved because my friend Ronnie and her brothers and sister Ginny showed up with a flying car and yanked the bars off the window and I flew off with them!”

Harriet wanted to break something, now.

“Then before my third year, my stupid uncle’s stupid sister came! Aunt Marge! She spent the whole week tearing me down, insulting my parents. She called my mum a whore!”

Tears of rage were blurring Harriet’s vision.

“Then I was in my room, and the only thing I could think to do was tie myself up! Well I tripped and knocked over my lamp and it woke Marge up! That’s when she caught me and she hit me! She called me freak! She hit me and called me a freak! And now I think that every time I think I’ve done something bad! Every time someone’s angry at me! I hear that word over and over again!”

Harriet was panting as she stopped pacing. Sebastian said nothing. Harriet felt shame starting to fill her. It was bad to shout like that. She shouldn’t let herself get that angry.

She’d made Sebastian sad. His ears were lowered, and his whiskers drooping. The tip of his tail was flicking up and down.

“I’m sorry, Harriet,” Sebastian finally said as Harriet slowly sat again. “I’m so very sorry… I know these are just words and they could never repair that much damage, but you have not deserved any of that.”

“Just because of what I was fucking born,” Harriet said, a sob choking her voice.

Sebastian’s whiskers drooped even more. He had set down his pen and pad of notes. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

“Harriet, I’ve been all around the world… I’ve met people of every walk of life. I’ve met other people just like you. I know that I can’t help you see this in one session alone—luckily, we will have more—but I have to tell you, there is _nothing_ wrong with you. Not. A. Thing.”

Sebastian put heavy emphasis on each syllable of the last part. Harriet looked back into his bright green eyes. She wanted to believe him. She deeply, truly did.

“There are many stigmas around interests like yours, but society will always fear what it takes no time to understand. You are not a freak. You are not a monster of any kind. Nothing of the sort.”

Harriet swallowed, her eyes still blurred. “You’ve met others like me?”

“I have, indeed. You say you tied yourself, is that what you prefer? Being tied, I mean?”

Harriet nodded. “Only thought about well… someone _else_ being tied only once… But mostly it’s me… I had some… pretty crazy dreams about it this past spring…”

“Oh?” Sebastian asked, smiling now, leaning back in his chair.

Harriet blushed nodding. “Dunno how ready I am to talk about those, but… they were all with Finn… all of them…”

Sebastian’s smile grew. “He really made an impression, didn’t he?”

Harriet wiped her eyes with her sleeve. “We met at the Hallowe’en party. He recognized my costume as Nancy Drew. I think that’s where I started liking… you know… being tied up… from those books.”

“Hmmmm,” Sebastian rubbed his chin. “They might have helped you manifest those desires in a healthy, tangible way, but I’m sure your submissive inclinations came well before that. Anyway, you were talking about Finn?”

“Yeah… he… he made a joke about… well… _kidnapping_ me…”

“Ahhhhhh,” Sebastian chortled softly. “He pushed the right button there, didn’t he?”

Harriet nodded. It really had.

“But he was always so nice, we danced… I’d never danced with anyone before. He asked about me. Wanted to know about me and Hogwarts. He didn’t know who I was. I didn’t tell him. He liked me for…”

“For you,” Sebastian finished for her.

“Yeah… for me… He dedicated the very first song to me—his band was performing at the party— _Star of the County Down_. He changed the words… made it about me instead, sang about my jet black hair and soft green eyes…” Harriet sighed. “He wrote me for a bit after that but then… I stopped. My friend Ronnie’s brother Fred started… well… he’s fancied me for a while I guess and he started… I guess making his move or… something…? Anyway, he sort of took over… but then I ran into Finn again at the Yule Ball… I could tell he was hurt. But he didn’t act upset with me…”

Harriet took a breath. “The next time I saw him… it was at the memorial service for Mr Hoffman…”

Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw Sebastian’s eyes widen, and he shifted a little uncomfortably in the chair. Harriet ignored him, she had to get more off her chest.

“He sang… and then he gave me this little look and just left. I didn’t hear anything from him again until the… the Gala.”

“Ah, yes… Rita Skeeter’s glorious self-destruction,” Sebastian chuckled.

Harriet shook her head. “No… it was Finn who did it. It was Finn who brought her down. A Muggle… he did what I couldn’t… What no one else had thought of… practically by himself. And he did it for _me_ , because I asked him for help… and after it was all over, he didn’t ask for thanks. He just walked away…”

“I see…” Sebastian said softly.

“Sirius told me once that I needed to look for a guy who does things for me without expecting anything in return… I thought that was Fred, I think… but no… it was Finn. I knew it then. And just as like… just as we were…”

“The Ministry struck…” Sebastian said.

Harriet could only nod. She felt very small. Powerless, even.

“Now he’s lost, no one knows where he is…”

Sebastian sighed. “I… can only imagine… the effect of such a memory charm would leave him likely in a state near dementia. He’ll obviously remember certain things… how to eat, for instance. Instinctual things. He may even have… we’ll call them shadow memories, of important things. He’ll know a certain stimuli means something to him, but he won’t remember what. Names, places, et cetera.”

Harriet wiped her eyes again. “We think he’s heading for Dublin. It’s where he was born and grew up.”

Sebastian raised his eyebrows. “You don’t say? When I spoke to him I would have pegged him as an Ulsterman.”

“He told me he worked hard to hide his accent,” Harriet explained. “His real one… he kept getting into fights at Rathlin for being from Dublin.”

Harriet fell silent. The two sat in the silence for what felt like ages. Harriet’s tears had stopped.

“We can stop here for the day if you want, Harriet…” Sebastian suggested, gently.

Harriet considered. She supposed it was a good idea. They hadn’t spoken very long, and she felt bad making Sebastian come all the way over here for so little, but she needed a rest.

“Yeah, I think that’ll be good,” Harriet said.

Sebastian smiled. “Wonderful. We definitely got some more issues out… and as you see… you’ve now told one of your deepest secrets to another person, and he did not call you a freak or reject you over it, either.”

Harriet smiled. “I… I told my sisters, too,” she explained. “Well… I kind of did. I didn’t go into full details, but…”

Sebastian’s smile grew. “Ah, so now you’re referring to them as your sisters. Your family is truly coming together. That’s wonderful, Harriet. Simply wonderful. It’s what you’ve always deserved.”

Harriet beamed.

## * * * *

Harriet put the last of her things into her trunk. The room looked strange without her things scattered about. Even if she had only lived here a couple short weeks, it had come to feel like home. A strange, dark, slightly terrifying home.

They weren’t leaving until the morning, but Harriet wanted to be ready to go at once. The French Aurors would be arriving at seven in the morning, sharp. The Aurors were coming undercover, not even the British Ministry knew about the plan. They were traveling via at least two portkeys. One would take Harriet, Daddy, Mum, and her sisters to the coast. There they would take another portkey across the channel to Calais. From there, in the safety of France, they would travel by more conventional means down to the Flamel home itself.

Harriet was beyond excited to see her friends again. They were all going to be together again in a new place to explore. Somewhere she’d be safe, far away from Kinney and Lord Voldemort. Even better, Sebastian said he would still make bi-weekly visits so Harriet could continue her therapy.

Harriet did have one lingering regret about leaving Grimmauld Place: Kreacher. While Harriet didn’t think she could consider Kreacher a friend just yet, she had grown fond of the eccentric elf. She had looked for him all day, but couldn’t find him anywhere in the house. She wondered if he was avoiding her, mad that she was leaving?

Harriet sighed. She took Finn from his usual spot and set him on her bedside table instead. Sirius was going to find him soon, Harriet was sure of it. Sirius was on the right track.

Harriet changed into her pyjamas and got ready to crawl into bed for the last time. She had just pulled back the covers when—

_Clank!_

The sound made Harriet nearly jump out of her skin. It had come from the ceiling right above her. Harriet listened, hard. She wondered if she should tell her parents. Maybe it was something dangerous? Only the day before, Daddy had driven out a Boggart from the desk in the drawing room. Not that boggarts were dangerous, but the house had its fair share of dark secrets.

There was more scratching now, something heavy was being dragged across the floor of the attic. Harriet felt even more worry building now. What if it was Death Eaters? Maybe they had found a way into the house via the attic? Harriet slowly started creeping towards her door. How could she get Daddy’s attention? She cracked the door open. At the same time, through the crack in the door, Harriet saw the trap door of the attic in the ceiling open, and a ladder slide down.

Harriet looked back towards her desk. Her wand was there. She was about to hurry back to get it when she heard a frustrated grunt that she recognized at once as Kreacher.

“Kreacher?” Harriet asked, opening the door and looking back out onto the landing.

Kreacher was halfway down the ladder now. The elf froze, before slowly turning his large eyes on Harriet. To Harriet’s surprise, he was giving her a dark look.

“Kreacher?” Harriet repeated. “Where have you been? I was looking for you all day.”

Kreacher didn’t reply. He just kept looking at Harriet from the ladder, his expression calculating as ever.

“I just wanted to make sure I got to say goodbye,” Harriet said, sadly. “I’m… I’m leaving tomorrow, Kreacher…”

Harriet wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or not, but she thought she saw Kreacher’s expression soften.

“Miss Potter is leaving?” Kreacher asked.

“Yeah,” Harriet said. “I’m going away… far away. And I just wanted to tell you that… well… I’ll miss you.”

Kreacher studied Harriet more before he finally continued down off the ladder. He grunted and stretched his back which cracked a couple times. Harriet grimaced in sympathy for the old elf.

“Just… going to worry about you… without people here all the time anymore.”

“Kreacher has survived this long. Kreacher will continue to survive.”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “That’s not what I mean, Kreacher… I worry about you being all alone, again.”

Kreacher looked as though he wanted to be angry, but couldn’t quite manage it. Harriet looked up at the open hatch to the attic.

“What were you doing up there?” Harriet asked. “You scared me.”

“Not the Potter-girl’s business,” Kreacher grumbled.

Harriet couldn’t help but roll her eyes once more. “I know you don’t _have_ to tell me, but it would be nice of you.”

Kreacher chewed the inside of his lip. Harriet sighed raising her hands. “Okay, okay, you don’t have to tell me…”

“Kreacher is considering…” Kreacher muttered. “Should Kreacher show… should Kreacher tell…?”

Harriet raised an eyebrow. “Show or… tell me what?”

“Kreacher was looking… Kreacher was being helpful… but Kreacher did not know… Potter-girl did not tell Kreacher the boy was Muggle… Kreacher wonders why she wants to find him? The Potter-girl should know better…”

Harriet had no idea how to respond to this. Kreacher had to be talking about Finn. He had been looking for Finn? He had been trying to find Finn for her?

“Kreacher, you were looking for Finn?”

Kreacher narrowed his eyes.

“Yes, Kreacher was,” Kreacher said. “Kreacher thought a missing magic boy… Kreacher thought Potter-girl had more sense…”

“Don’t talk like that!” Harriet snapped. “Muggles aren’t bad, Kreacher!”

“Muggles who mistreated Miss Potter so long?” the elf asked, giving Harriet a shrewd look.

Harriet kept glaring. “Yes, _some_ muggles were horrible to me, but not _all_ muggles are, Kreacher. Finn has done great things for me, he likes me, and I like him. And I don’t care what your Mistress thought of Muggles. I’m my own person and I think what I want about them.”

Kreacher was glaring back at Harriet. Harriet crossed her arms.

“I know they were nice to you, Kreacher, but that doesn’t make what your family believed right.”

Harriet was starting to kick herself mentally. This wasn’t the note she wanted to go out on with Kreacher. Not when she thought she’d been getting through to him.

“I don’t want to fight with you, Kreacher… I think you’re smart… too smart to think like this.”

Kreacher’s eyes were slits now. Slowly he looked away from her, and began climbing the ladder back into the attic. Harriet sighed, turning back to her room. She felt miserable, at once sad and yet deeply annoyed.

“Is Miss Potter coming?” Kreacher asked.

Harriet turned back around. Kreacher was almost to the top of the ladder, looking back at her.

“You’re going to show me?” Harriet asked.

Kreacher’s only response was to continue up into the attic. Harriet glanced around the empty landing, took a deep breath, and started up the rickety ladder into the attic after Kreacher.

The attic was almost pitch black. There were scampering noises all around her, the pattering of many tiny feet. Harriet sincerely hoped they were all mice.

Harriet heard grunting. She followed the sound, tripping once or twice on boxes in the dark. Finally, there was the sound of snapping fingers and an old oil lamp flamed into life. Harriet held up a hand, shielding her eyes from the bright light of the lamp.

“Kreacher found this…”

Harriet squinted letting her eyes adjust to the light.

“ _Master_ said the boy headed south. So Kreacher searched south. Kreacher found a person who saw the boy. Person had the boy’s hat. Kreacher reclaimed it.”

Harriet gasped. Kreacher was holding up Finn’s peaky cap.

“ _Master_ can… can _smell_ the hat… find the boy’s scent and follow it. If Miss Potter still thinks him worthy.”

Harriet’s jaw was hanging open. It was Finn’s hat. His actual hat. She would never forget it. She would always remember the image of him wearing it, tipping it to her before vanishing into the crowd at the Gala.

“His hat… you found his hat… you…” Harriet trailed off as she saw what Kreacher was standing on. It was a road-marker. It read “Wallace Park.”

“Wallace Park?” Harriet blinked.

“Where Kreacher found the hat,” Kreacher said. “Kreacher cannot write, so Kreacher took sign to be sure he would not forget name.”

Kreacher grunted as Harriet dropped to her knees and at once pulled Kreacher into one of the tightest hugs she had given anyone. Kreacher struggled, protesting and trying to free himself.

“Miss Potter is touching Kreacher! Release him at once!”

“No,” Harriet replied. “You’re amazing, Kreacher. Truly amazing! Thank you, thank you so much, Kreacher! So much!”

Kreacher stopped his struggles. Harriet kept hugging him gratefully.

“…Miss Potter is welcome…”


	5. Back and Forth

“Many travel abroad looking for adventure, a chance to broaden their horizons. Romantic as this is, most do so to scape a horror, or host of them, being left behind. In my time, I was one of those horrors.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

The first thing Harriet did that morning was pluck Finn off her bedside table and carefully unscrew the lid.

“This is it, Finn,” Harriet said quietly to the contents of the little jar, speaking directly to the swirling memories. “We’re off to France. We’re going to stay at my friend Dora’s house. I don’t know how much you know about her. I never told you much. Bet you she lives in some big, giant mansion like the McIntyres do. You’re gonna get to know the McIntyres real well. Scott’s totally into your little brother. I hope he’s happy at the Cambridge’s. I’d hoped he would stay at the McIntyres, but I guess he wanted to be closer to his best friends.”

Harriet thought of her own friends. “I guess I would, too… I miss mine a lot. But I’m going to finally see them today! And Sirius is here! I’ll give him your hat so he can track your scent! He can turn into a great big dog… I don’t think I ever got to tell you that, either. But he’ll find you, and he’ll make you safe, and he’ll bring you home and we can give your memories back and everything can go back to normal and you can make more music and just…”

Harriet sighed. She wanted to say “be happy,” but when would that ever happen? Even with Finn. She screwed the lid back onto the jar. She hugged it tight and rose. She dressed as fast as she could, forgetting to make her bed or even comb her hair in her hurry as she hustled down the stairs. They were leaving in only an hour, and she had to speak with Sirius. She knew he’d be there. Daniel had told her so.

Harriet slowed her descent as she neared the portrait of Sirius’ mother. It was second nature for her to do so. She could hear the faint sound of voices coming from the dining hall.

Harriet poked her head into the room. Just as the night after the attack, it looked as though the entire Order was in the room. Witches and wizards of all shapes and sizes were dressed in drab, loose-fitting clothes. She would have thought they all dressed in the dark, but she knew all too well that British wizards, in particular, were terrible at dressing like muggles. Harriet grimaced. She couldn’t see Sirius anywhere.

She did see Daddy in the far corner, talking lowly with Mum, Professor McGonagall, and two men Harriet didn’t recognize. They were wearing normal muggle street clothes, but somehow Harriet suspected they were some of the French Aurors. For one thing, they looked the most muggle-like of the whole group.

One was rather handsome; olive-skinned with jet-black hair, dark eyes and a goatee. He looked to be around Daddy’s age, and seemed friendly enough. He was smiling, at least, as he looked between the others, adding his own comments here and there.

Harriet turned her attention to the other and furrowed her brow. Now she thought on it, the second one did look familiar. He looked closer to Mum in age, maybe younger, perhaps in his mid-to-late twenties. He had curly copper hair, and a hint of a beard that only accentuated his strong, set jawline. As Harriet studied him, his eyes glanced over and found Harriet’s.

She felt a chill as she looked back into his amber eyes. There was something cold and empty in those eyes. She saw the glint of recognition, but the gaze was lifeless and cold. It was as though the man was empty.

“Good morning,” said a voice Harriet didn’t recognize.

She looked to her left to see a woman sitting in a nearby chair along the wall. While she hadn’t recognized the voice, Harriet did recognize her face. She had only met her once before. Her name was Hannah, the one who suggested Sebastian as her therapist. She still wore a white flower in her hair, which matched her white sundress.

“Hey,” Harriet said. “Hannah, right?”

Hannah smiled. “That’s right. I hear you’ve been seeing a lot of Sebastian lately.”

Harriet nodded, stepping into the room. “Yeah, he’s been great. I haven’t seen him many times yet but I think he’s really helping.”

“That’s wonderful. I’m glad to hear he’s getting back on his feet as a therapist, and that he’s helping you.”

“Back on his feet?” Harriet asked.

“Oh yes, Seb hasn’t been himself since…” Hannah paused, and her face fell as she looked off, as if searching the room for the right words. “Since he left for the war.”

“I see… he said Bakersfield was hard.”

Hannah sighed. “The war was taking its toll on him well before Bakersfield. That was just the final straw. He spent a month in the hospital himself after that…”

Harriet grimaced. “Yeah, he mentioned that…”

Harriet was distracted by Sirius moving out of the crowd, walking towards them. He looked exhausted as he sipped from a steaming mug of coffee, groaning in appreciation.

“Morning all,” Sirius said. “Ready for the off?”

“Sirius!” Harriet said excitedly. “I’ve been looking for you! I have to show you something before we go!”

Sirius gave Harriet a tired, but interested, smile. “Of course, just let me finish—oh, hello, Hannah,” Sirius said, spying her.

“Hello, Sirius,” Hannah said.

“How’re things?” Sirius asked. His lips curled, mischievously. “Still getting cozy with Daedalus?”

Hannah gave the slightest of blushes but continued to smile. “Why yes, as a matter of fact.”

“Well, I do want to thank you for… you know… suggesting Sebastian help Harriet. I hear he’s been a real help.”

Despite his kind words, Harriet couldn’t help but feel a sense of awkwardness coming from Sirius.

Hannah’s smile was forced as she replied. “So Harriet says. I’m glad to hear it.”

Harriet looked back and forth between the two, thoroughly confused now.

Hannah turned her forced smile to Harriet. “Sebastian’s my ex-husband, Harriet.”

Harriet’s face went slack from shock and embarrassment. Sebastian had once mentioned having an ex-wife, but he had not gone into any real details. She blushed a little looking at the pretty woman. What had gone wrong? Sebastian was so nice, and Hannah seemed very nice, too.

“It’s fine, sweetie,” Hannah said. “Sebastian’s the best at what he does, and you deserve the best after all you’ve been through.”

Harriet was completely speechless at this. What could she say to any of that?

Sirius cleared his throat. “Anyway, you said you wanted to show me something?”

“Yes!” Harriet said, both eager to show him and glad for the change of subject. “Come on!”

“Okay, okay,” Sirius chuckled, following as Harriet took hold of his sleeve, pulling him from the room.

They crept past the portrait and all the way up the stairs.

“This wouldn’t have anything to do with a certain wandering minstrel, would it?” Sirius chuckled.

“Yes!” Harriet grinned.

“What is it?” Sirius asked, his interest growing.

“His hat!” Harriet said, opening the door to her room and pulling Sirius inside.

Sirius paused, blinking. “His hat? How on earth did you get that?”

“It’s so amazing!” Harriet said, taking Finn’s hat from the desk. “It was Kreacher who found it!”

Sirius’ reaction was not what Harriet had hoped. Rather than looking excited, his eyes suddenly darkened.

“What?” Sirius asked, his voice hard and cold.

Harriet swallowed. Sirius didn’t look like himself. Instead he looked as he had the night he dragged Harriet into the Womping Willow; the night he tried to kill Wormtail.

“Y-yeah… he overheard us talking… so he went to look for Finn, too. He found his hat…” Harriet held it up.

“Kreacher!” Sirius called, his voice beginning to boil over with rage.

“Sirius!” Harriet exclaimed. “What—”

Harriet was cut off by a popping noise as Kreacher appeared on the floor between them.

“ _Maaaasterrrr,_ ” Kreacher said, his voice full of faux servility as he bowed deeply to Sirius.

“Is this true?” Sirius growled, pointing at the hat. “Is this truly the hat of Finnbar Negus? Tell me the truth, Kreacher!”

“Of course, it is, _Master_ ,” Kreacher said without hesitation.

“You left this house against my orders!” Sirius declared.

“But of course, Kreacher did, _Master_ ,” Kreacher said, his voice sly.

He still had not risen from his bow. Harriet blinked in confusion. She noted that Kreacher had bandages on his hands that had not been there the night before.

“What happened to your hands?” Sirius asked.

“Kreacher burned them in an oil lamp, _Master_ , for disobeying orders. But doing so was worth it. Doing so made Miss Potter happy.”

Sirius stared. So did Harriet. She was touched that Kreacher had wanted to help her so badly. However, she now felt horrified. She certainly hadn’t wanted Kreacher to hurt himself for her. Not that she had asked him to look for Finn in the first place, but that was beside the point.

“Kreacher!” Harriet gasped. “I never wanted you to do that!”

“It is part of a house-elves’ honour,” Kreacher said without looking at Harriet.

Silence fell on the room. Kreacher was looking up at Sirius with almost open defiance on his face. It was if he was daring Sirius to punish him.

Sirius looked as dumbstruck as Harriet was. Finally, he muttered “Why…?”

Kreacher did not respond right away. He did stop bowing. Sirius and Kreacher stared at each other for what felt like minutes before Kreacher finally spoke.

“Miss Potter praised Kreacher for keeping the dearest Black family heirlooms properly clean. Miss Potter shows respect for the House of Black. Miss Potter shows kindness to Kreacher. Kindness _Master_ has never shown… besides, _Master_ told Kreacher to assist Miss Potter and the others _any_ way he could…”

Sirius began pacing the room. Harriet didn’t know what to think or do. The room was almost totally silent except for the sound of Sirius’ shuffling feet.

“All these years,” Sirius said, looking down at Kreacher. “All _those_ years of torment, of telling my mother what a ‘horrible little boy’ I was… you just roll over for Harriet because she was _nice_ to you.”

Kreacher’s eyes narrowed to slits. “ _Master_ spent his days chasing the muggle girls around the neighbourhood. _Master_ destroyed every Black heirloom in his room. _Master_ —”

“I get it, I get it!” Sirius interrupted. “I was a right little shit. I’ve been told that my whole life.”

Sirius looked down at Finn’s hat again. “Where did you find it?”

“Kreacher found it outside Belfast, _Master,_ ” Kreacher replied. “Was in a park.”

“Wallace Park,” Harriet chimed in, remembering the sign.

Sirius blinked. “Wallace Park…? That’s over in Lisburn! How’d get over there? The last sighting of him I had was down in Carryduff. Why would he change direction…?”

Kreacher shrugged. “Kreacher does not know. Kreacher has not yet found the boy and so cannot ask him.”

“What made you look over there?”

“Kreacher spent days looking. Did not eat or sleep. Kreacher knew the boy must be hungry. _Master_ himself said the boy tried to buy food. So Kreacher searched places with food. Kreacher hid near them and listened. People spoke of a boy who sang for money. Sat and sang, he did, then people gave him money. Not much, but enough. The boy used the money to buy food. The description was always the same: the nice boy who sang. He had a peaky cap and wore the same, dirty clothes. Blue eyes he had, and curly brown hair.”

“That’s Finn!” Harriet exclaimed.

Kreacher continued as though Harriet had not spoken. “Kreacher followed the sightings of the boy. Boy got in a spot of bother over trying to get on a bus without enough fare. A man recognized him… paid his fare. The boy gave the man his hat in thanks. The man was bald, and it was raining.”

“Where was the bus going?” Sirius asked.

“How did you get the hat back?” Harriet chimed in at the same time.

Kreacher answered Sirius first. “Bus was heading back to the centre of the city. Boy said he’d gone the wrong way. Said he was looking for people.”

“Who?” Sirius asked.

Kreacher shrugged. “The boy did not say. The boy could not remember. The boy said they must be important. They felt important.”

Kreacher turned his eyes to Harriet. “And Kreacher stole into man’s house in the middle of the night. Kreacher can go where he pleases without a sound. Hears and sees many things.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Sirius growled, bitterly.

Kreacher didn’t seem at all abashed. “It is a house-elf’s duty to know all that goes on in the home.”

Harriet was looking in Sirius’ eyes. The pain on his face was palpable. He no longer looked quite so angry. Instead, for once, Harriet felt she saw Sirius as a child. His facial hair was gone. The lines on his face were gone. His cheeks were full, though his cheekbones still prominent.

“ _What did you do with them, Kreacher?!”_ Sirius shouted. His voice was distant and echoing, as though Harriet heard him speaking in a tunnel.

“ _This is for young master’s own good!_ ” Kreacher said. His voice sounded like Sirius’, distant and reverberating. Harriet looked around. She realized she was no longer in her room. She was down in the study.

“ _Mistress will no longer be angry with young Master if he gets rid of that nonsense! Muggle women? Barely dressed! In our house?!_ ”

“ _My mother can boil her head for all I care! Muggle-hating old hag!”_

Harriet was floating. In slow motion, the world returned to her bedroom, her gaze rising up the walls to the ceiling.

A flash of white light hit Harriet’s vision. Then blackness. She felt like she was floating again. Then the pain hit. It felt as though the back of her head had been split open.

“HARRIET!” she heard Sirius cry.

“MISS POTTER!” came Kreacher’s shriek of alarm.

Harriet blinked. She tried reaching up to rub her head but her hand was moving funny. The room was spinning, and her vision blurred by tears. As the room stopped she became aware that Sirius and Kreacher were both kneeling over her. Their faces were equally full of shock and worry.

“Harriet? Harriet!” Sirius said urgently. He was shaking her shoulders awkwardly, as though he was both trying to shake her enough to rouse her, but not so much as to cause her more injury.

“W’am’I?” Harriet managed to mumble.

“Miss Potter is bleeding,” Kreacher said urgently.

“Kreacher, fetch Healer Smethwyck. Wherever he is.”

“Yes, Master.”

_Crack_.

The sound of Kreacher disapparating made Harriet jump, further bringing herself to her senses.

“Wha’ happened,” Harriet said, her voice still a bit slurred.

“You fainted,” Sirius explained. “Just lay still, you might have a concussion…”

“’Kay,” Harriet mumbled. The world was no longer spinning, but she still felt dizzy.

Daddy was the next person through the door.

“What happened?” he asked, panic in his voice.

“I don’t know,” Sirius said. “Kreacher and I were having an argument and she just collapsed.”

“Harriet, sweetie?” Daddy asked, as though he hadn’t heard Sirius. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Fell,” Harriet said, looking up into his worried face.

As her faculties returned, the worry on Daddy’s face was starting to make Harriet afraid. Just how badly was she hurt?

Mum appeared next to him.

“What happened?” Mum demanded, the worry in her face equal to Daddy’s. They both looked up at Sirius.

Sirius’ looked stricken. “I don’t know! Like I said, Kreacher and I were in an argument and she just fell right in front of us!”

“Kreacher didn’t hate you,” Harriet said, looking up at the blurred outline of Sirius.

Sirius stopped talking. Mum and Daddy looked at Harriet, then at each other. Confusion mixed at once with their worry.

“I’m here, I’m here,” came a voice from out of sight.

“Hippocrates!” Daddy gasped in relief.

“Had a tumble, have we?” Healer Smethwyck said, smiling kindly. “Probably a concussion. That can be set right in a jiffy.”

The worry lessened from Mum and Daddy’s faces, but did not go away completely.

“But why did she fall in the first place? Should we take her to St Mungo’s?”

“Zere’s no time,” said another voice.

Harriet leaned over a little. She saw the two men from the dining hall standing in the doorway with Professor McGonagall.

“He’s right,” Professor McGonagall said. “The portkeys are ready to go. We can’t risk setting up the relay again without being discovered by either the Ministry or You-Know-Who.”

The man who seemed familiar did not speak.

“Can she travel by portkeys in this condition?” Mum asked. “The protection here is strong enough; she doesn’t have to go.”

“She’ll be alright,” Healer Smethwyck soothed. “I have a potion that’ll bring down the swelling. It’ll work in minutes. It’s standard kit for medi-wizards working Quidditch matches.”

“As for further medical treatment, do you theenk we are savages in France? That we do not have healing facilities as you do with your St Mungo’s?”

Even in her daze, Harriet could hear the offended tone of the man’s voice.

“This is our daughter,” Mum snapped. “Forgive us for putting her most immediate needs first.”

Harriet stared at Mum. She still felt groggy, but she felt her affection bloom.

“There’s no time for this,” the empty-eyed man finally spoke.

Harriet furrowed her brow. His accent was American. What was an American doing here?

“The portkeys are about to go. Harriet needs to take this potion and we need to leave.”

“The Captain is right,” Professor McGonagall conceded. “We can’t waste any more time. Harriet will be well cared for at the Flamels’.”

“Here’s her vest,” said the American. “The twins already have theirs on.”

“Vest?” Harriet asked, taking the cup that Healer Smethwyck gave her.

She sipped and at once cool, soothing tingles passed through her body. It spread out to her toes and fingertips where it dissipated. However, it settled in the back of her head and forehead. Harriet moaned, lolling her head back in appreciation as the tingles soothed her.

“There we are, right as rain in minutes,” Healer Smethwyck said. “She _will_ need follow up doses for the next couple of days. Once in the morning and once at night, so I will leave this bottle with you.”

“Thank you, Hippocrates,” Daddy said, taking the bottle.

Healer Smethwyck bid them farewell. As he left the room, Harriet saw the ‘vest’ the American had mentioned. She raised a bemused eyebrow. It looked like the old-timey breastplate that Sir Nicolas, the Gryffindor ghost, wore. Unlike Sir Nicolas’, however, it was a shimmering, polished gold.

The American knocked on it, and it rang loudly in the little room.

“Aluminum with gold plating,” he said. “It’ll be bulky, but it’s not as heavy as steel, and it’ll still protect you from any curse.”

“We’ll be downstairs,” the French man said. “Give you some privacy.”

“Thanks,” Daddy said, pulling over the armour vest from the American.

The two left, leaving Daddy, Mum, and Sirius alone in the room. Daddy was undoing the straps on the vest when another voice spoke up.

“Is Miss Potter alright?”

Kreacher was back. The elf was peering in the doorway, along with Nan and Rosie. The twins’ shirts were misshapen from their armour. Harriet noticed that Kreacher was holding Nan’s hand in worry.

“She’s going to be alright, Kreacher,” Sirius said, his voice full of a determined calm.

“Kreacher left as fast as he could,” Kreacher continued as Mum and Daddy helped Harriet lift her shirt, and fit the vest to her. It was padded on the inside, which Harriet appreciated, but was certainly bulkier than she liked.

“Kreacher summoned the Healer… found him at home. Would have been faster but went to hospital first. Kreacher was worried… Healer was alarmed but Kreacher insisted…”

“Thank you, Kreacher,” Daddy said, reaching over and gently patting the little elf on the head. “You did good.”

“Yes, Kreacher,” Sirius said. “You did good, Kreacher. You did very good.”

“Thank you, Master Sirius.”

## * * * *

Ten minutes later, Harriet and the rest were downstairs. They were gathered around an old, bent, tarnished trumpet that was the portkey. Harriet was amused by the fact that even in France, portkeys were old, discarded objects.

“That’s the portkey?” Rosie asked, crinkling her nose a little.

The French auror gave her a kind smile. “Oui, Mam'selle. Ze portkey is often items such as zis that the Muggles are unlikely to notice. I also like to tell maself that this is giving zese items a second chance to be useful.”

Rosie nodded, digesting this.

Professor McGonagall spoke up. “The portkey will transport you all to a pre-arranged spot: a marker on the cliffs of Dover.”

“It’s the shortest distance between there and Calais,” the American said.

“Precisely,” Professor McGonagall said. “The portkey will go off in…” she trailed off checking her watch. “Two minutes. Gather around. Half of us here will apparate to the location for security thirty seconds before the portkey activates.”

“Hercule and I will be part of that group,” the American said.

Harriet was staring at him. Where had she seen him before? Thinking so hard made her head swim slightly. Daddy put a steadying hand on her shoulder. Harriet stole one more glance at the American before trying to put him out of her mind.

“Where’s our stuff?” Rosie asked.

“The Order will take your things to the Flamels as soon as we know you’re there safely,” Professor McGonagall said, then began ushering the twins and Harriet towards the portkey.

Harriet and her family gathered around the portkey. Harriet looked around. She wanted one last chance to say goodbye to Kreacher.

“Where’s Kreacher?” Harriet asked.

“Kreacher is here, Miss Potter,” the little elf said, stepping out of the crowd.

Harriet smiled at him. “Just wanted to say goodbye, Kreacher, and thank you.”

Kreacher looked up at Harriet. As ever, his expression was impossible to read. “Goodbye, Miss Potter, and you are welcome.”

“Thirty seconds,” Professor McGonagall said. “Go.”

The resounding crack of so many people disapparating at once was almost deafening. Harriet noted that Sirius and Remus had also gone with the advance group. Hannah was still there, giving Harriet a comforting smile.

Harriet put her hand on the portkey, standing with Nan on her left and Rosie on her right. Daddy and Mum were standing on the other side of the trumpet, giving the three girls encouraging smiles. Harriet glanced side to side at the twins. Both were giving the woebegone trumpet uncertain looks.

Professor McGonagall still had her eyes on her watch. “Three… two… one…”

Harriet felt the familiar (and far from pleasant) tug pull her forward from behind her belly-button and jerk her clean off her feet. She could feel the twins bouncing against her as Harriet’s already ringing ears were filled with the sound of roaring wind. The world was moving too fast for Harriet to see, instead becoming a swirling blur of colours and she shut her eyes.

No sooner had she shut her eyes than her feet hit solid ground. Harriet, who was prepared for this, managed to keep her footing, though the weight of her vest and the sudden stop did cause her to stumble, nearly dropping Finn, clutched tightly in her wand-hand. To either side of her, the twins toppled over. Both were laughing, however, clearly having thoroughly enjoyed the trip.

“Quiet!” hissed an irritated voice from nearby.

Harriet opened her eyes and looked around. She became aware at once that they were surrounded. There was a ring of people around them. All had their backs to Harriet and her family. Every one of them were wearing jet-black jumpsuits, the letters “GIGM” emblazoned on the backs in big, white letters. Their wands were drawn, pointing outwards in what Harriet recognized as a defensive circle.

She became further aware of her surroundings as she looked around at the circle. She could smell the sea, and heard the roar of waves crashing nearby. They were standing on an outcrop on the side of a cliff. There was sparse grass on the ground, and a square tunnel carved straight into the cliff beside them. Harriet looked at the men and women around them and suddenly felt worried. Not a single Order member was amongst them.

“What the hell?” Daddy spluttered, taking in the scene too.

“Clair?” another voice called.

“Clair!” came a reply.

“Bonjour, Monsieur Dusk, Madam Sinistra,” said a middle-aged, hardened looking black witch who was walking towards them.

The jump-suited witches and wizards stood at attention, sliding their wands into holsters and saluting the woman. They parted and the woman walked up to Mum and Daddy, extending a hand.

“Commandant Zephyr Marceau, at your service,” she said. “Head of the Sûreté Magique. Aurors, as you call zem in your country.”

“What’s going on?” Daddy asked, looking around. “Where’s the Order?”

“A necessary precaution,” Commandant Marceau replied.

“‘Necessary precaution?” Daddy demanded, his face growing a deep red. “You lied to us! Where are we?”

“Oui,” Commandant Marceau reiterated. “We could not be sure that your organization was not compromised.”

“Who thought of that?!” Daddy roared as Mum tried to calm him. “How—”

“It was my idea, Mr Dusk,” came the voice of the American.

Harriet watched him approach along with the French Auror named Hercule.

“Who the hell gave you that authority?” Daddy snarled.

“I did, Monsieur Dusk,” Commandant Marceau replied. “The Capitan’s idea was a good one, and so we used it.”

Daddy still looked furious, but Harriet wasn’t sure what they could do about it now they were here. Mum seemed to agree.

“So, where are we now?” Mum asked.

“Durlston National Nature Reserve,” the captain said. “Specifically: Anvil Point.”

“Durlston?” Rosie said, “We were supposed to be going to Dover you said.”

“Précisément,” Commandant Marceau said. “Going to Dover was too obvious. It would be assumed we would take the shortest route in our haste. Instead, we are taking ze longer route.”

“We are going to Cherbourg, instead of Calais,” Hercule said. “We are using a muggle tactic from zeir Second World War.”

Daddy looked grudgingly impressed at this. Nan however was dubious.

“Wouldn’t You-Know-Who figure that out, though?”

The American’s look softened considerably. He almost looked alive again, to Harriet, as he bent down to look Nan face to face. “Well if there’s one history Voldemort and his goons wouldn’t have studied, it’d be Muggle history.”

Nan went very red indeed as the Captain stood back to his full height.

“But over in the US we’ve been studying up on it hard.”

“How come?” Rosie asked.

The Captain snorted. “Because no one’s better at warfare than the Muggles.”

“Le Portoloin est prêt,” declared one of the Aurors around them.

“Excellent,” Commandant Marceau said.

An Auror came walking over to them, carrying a broken hockey-stick, barely hanging together by a few splinters.

“Okay, same drill, everyone touch the portkey,” the Captain urged.

Daddy sighed and touched the portkey. Harriet and the rest leaned in, touching it too. She clutched Finn close to her chest, not wanting to risk dropping him again. Hercule furrowed his brow.

“Zat must be awkward, Mam’selle Potter, I can carry it in ma pocket for you?”

Harriet clutched Finn tighter. Hercule seemed nice, but she certainly wasn’t going to just hand Finn off to some man she’d never met before.

“That’s Harriet’s most prized possession,” Mum told Hercule under her breath.

Hercule rubbed his bearded chin and snapped his fingers, drawing his wand. He gave it a couple twiddles and twitches and out popped a sort of harness and a neck-strap.

“’Ere you are, Mam’selle, you can put ze jar in zis and carry it around your neck, instead.”

Harriet slowly took the harness. With some finagling, she managed to slide Finn into it, and put it around her neck.

“Thank you,” Harriet said softly, looking down at Finn hanging securely there.

“You are most welcome,” Hercule smiled.

“Right, same drill as last time,” the Captain said, checking his own watch. “I’ll meet you when you arrive in Cherbourg.”

For the first time, the Captain smiled at Harriet. In that moment, Harriet finally recognized him. She most certainly had seen him before. She remembered him standing on the stage at the Yule Ball. He’d been wearing a bright, fresh, military dress uniform. His head had been clean-shaven then. His face had been vibrant and full of life as he leapt off the stage and caught his little sister, Rachel Kane, in his arms.

It was Captain Aaron Kane, Rachel’s oldest brother. Harriet found herself gawking a little. Despite his smile, his eyes remained dead and lifeless. He still felt empty to Harriet. Harriet tried to place this Aaron Kane on top of the other one in her mind, and found she couldn’t. What could have possibly happened to him?

Harriet did not have time to ask him. At that moment, Captain Kane, Hercule the Auror, Commandant Marceau, and around half the other Aurors drew their wands. In unison, they spun, sweeping their wands in wide arcs, and vanishing in another deafening series of cracks.

No sooner were they gone than once more Harriet felt her mid-section tugged forward as the portkey yanked them off to their next destination. The wind roared past her ears, whipping her hair. She forced her eyes open again, once more feeling mesmerized by the kaleidoscope of colours that was swirling around her. She glanced side to side at the twins. Both of their faces were full of wonder and glee as they looked around.

Their feet hit the ground again. This time it was much harder than even the rocky ground they had landed on before. The twins bumped into her and almost fell as before, but jovial voices laughed.

“Oups!, houp-là!”

Harriet looked either side to see that two more of the French Aurors in their black jumpsuits had caught the twins to keep them from falling. These Aurors looked much more genial and relaxed than the ones at Anvil Point. Both Aurors looked young, around the age of Captain Kane, and were rather handsome. A fact that was clearly not lost on the twins as both went a deep shade of red as they stared up at the Aurors after being set back on their feet.

“Merci,” both mumbled.

“De rien,” one said, smiling.

“Bonjour,” said the other. “Monsieur Dusk, Sinistra family, and Mam'selle Potter, Bienvenue à Cherbourg!”

Harriet raised her eyebrows. This certainly wasn’t the best introduction to her first steps outside of France. The air was musty, and old. It smelled like they were in an old cellar. The walls, floors, and ceiling were all concrete. There were no windows that she could see, all the light was coming from oil lamps. There were vents here and there in the ceiling that were rattling and groaning. She saw only one door, which was sealed by a large, heavy, steel door that looked almost like a vault.

“Charming,” Rosie muttered, tearing her attention away from the Auror who had caught her and looking around the room.

There was a surprising amount of people in the room. They were all dressed the same. One was sitting at a small table with an old-fashioned radio on it. He was taking strips of parchment from it, reading them, then burning the messages just as quickly. However, every now and then, he would hand a strip off to the Auror standing right behind him, who would put it into a pouch with ‘Poste de pie’.

“Bienvenue,” said Commandant Marceau as she opened the steel door and stepped into the room. “Right on time.”

“Commandant,” called the Auror at the radio, reading another strip of parchment.

“Oui?”

“Nos espions reportent que le lieu du leurre n'a pas été attaqué,” the Auror reported.

“What’d he say?” Daddy asked, still sounding disgruntled.

“He said that the site the Order went to has not been attacked,” the Commandant replied. “It appears there is not a spy in your organization after all.”

“You used them as bait,” Daddy snarled.

“Would you have preferred you used you as bait, Monsieur Dusk?” Commandant Marceau asked.

“They were not bait, Daniel.”

Harriet started. With all that had happened, the last voice she’d expected was Professor McGonagall’s.

“Minerva?!” Daddy spluttered. “What the hell is going on?”

Professor McGonagall bent a steely eye on Daddy.

“What is necessary,” Professor McGonagall said, parroting the Aurors at Anvil Point. “Fifteen years ago, the Order was betrayed by a spy from within. We took only the most minimal efforts to identify who that spy was because we did not want to believe one of us could have turned. I will not make the same mistake Albus did and cause Harriet more misery by delivering her to Lord Voldemort’s hands or costing her more of the lives she holds dearest.”

The room went deathly quiet at this. Professor McGonagall breathed deeply through her nose. “Daniel, Aurora, there is no one else in the entire world I would rather come to care for Harriet as parents, but you, Daniel, have been letting your feelings get in the way of your judgement. Harriet needs you as a father, but she also needs you as the Auror you were. I need you as the Auror you were. The entire world right now needs you as the Auror you were.”

Harriet was starting to get angry. How dare Professor McGonagall talk to Daddy that way? Mum stepped into the middle of them all.

“Enough!” she said glaring around at nearly everyone. “Commandant, we thank you for getting us out of Britain safely. Your forces were amazing.”

Commandant Marceau merely nodded her thanks.

“Minerva, you might have told _us_ at least, but we thank you for helping get us here safely as well. Daniel, we all need to work together as a family and we can’t fall apart. Not now when we’re so close and yet there’s still so much at stake.”

Mum took Daddy’s hands, giving him a soft smile. “We’re here. We’re in France. Harriet’s safe. We can relax just a little bit now, don’t you think?”

Daddy sighed and rested his forehead against Mum’s. “You’re right…”

“The others weren’t attacked… the Order is still secure. Everyone’s safe.”

“Everyone’s safe,” Daddy repeated. “You’re right, Rora.”

Mum’s eyes twinkled. “Of course, I am.”

Daddy chuckled. “Tease.”

Rosie cleared her throat while Nan giggled. Daddy simply chuckled and ruffled their hair. Suddenly he paused, looking around the room again. His face became suspicious once more.

“Where’s that Captain Kane? He said he was heading over here?”

“He is outside with ze cars,” Commandant Marceau replied. “He seemed to think it was best. He is of the impression that you do not particularly like him.”

“He hasn’t exactly made the best first impression, no…”

“Capitan Kane is forceful but effective from what we have seen,” Commandant Marceau said. “We are working closely with him and several other nations as part of an International Confederation of Wizards investigation into the Rathlin, Solomon Kinney, and Lord Voldemort incidents.”

“You believe Voldemort’s back?” Harriet asked.

“Oui,” Commandant Marceau replied. “ _We_ are trying to put it in as many papers as we can, but ze British Ministry is working very hard to ensure as little outside information reaches the magical population of Britain as possible.”

“Ze problem is, with ze war in America, many countries are pulling inwards,” said Hercule. “Most do not particularly care about ze return of Lord Voldemort. Zey see zat as Britain’s problem. Zey are more concerned with ensuring ze safety of zeir own people.”

Hercule’s eyes found Harriet’s. “Apologies, we were not properly introduced. I am Hercule Albert, Adjutant to Commandant Merceau.”

“Nice to meet you,” Harriet said.

“Where are we?” Nan asked, looking around the little room.

“We are in ze basement of an old u-boat pen,” Hercule replied.

“A what pen?” Rosie inquired.

Hercule smiled indulgently. “Back in ze early nineteen-forties, ze Muggles were fighting a world-wide war with each other.”

“Ohhhhhhhh,” the twins nodded in unison.

“We did get taught about that a little,” Nan said.

“Well, U-boats were a submarine, an underwater ship that fired things called torpedoes to sink ships. That’s what the Nazis called them.” Came a voice from the staircase.

Captain Kane had returned.

“The Nazis were the bad-guys, right?” Nan asked.

“Exactly. Their U-boats were such a threat that the Nazis had to build massive concrete bunkers to protect them from Allied retaliation. I couldn’t think of anywhere on the French coast more appropriate for a temporary headquarters. Even magic couldn’t penetrate this much concrete.”

Captain Kane and Daddy locked eyes again. Captain Kane held out his hand.

“Mr Dusk, we got off to a bad start. I’m Captain Aaron Kane. I’m the one people call when they have a problem that needs fixing.”

“You have that reputation in the papers, yes,” Daddy said. To Harriet’s surprise, Daddy took Captain Kane’s hand. “Not saying I trust you, yet.”

Captain Kane smiled. “That’s good. Now you’re thinking covert. That’s exactly what we need.”

Daniel’s smile faltered considerably. “This isn’t my first round of fighting Voldemort, boy.”

“Have you ever caved in a man’s skull with the same broken fence-post he was just trying to split yours with?”

“No, but I’ve held my dead parents—”

“Gentlemen!” Professor McGonagall spoke up again. “This is no time to measure our wands!”

Both Daddy and Captain Kane fell silent. Their cheeks reddened, but their faces remained hardened. Harriet was staring at Captain Kane again. He had meant it. He hadn’t been lying. He had truly done that before.

“The cars are this way,” Hercule said, gesturing up the staircase beyond the single door.

Daddy put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder and they began ascending the stairs together. The sound of their feet echoed eerily up the long stairway. Finally, they reached the top.

The sight at the top was not much more reassuring. The air was clearer, but they were surrounded by a high, curved concrete ceiling. There were cracks all over, held up by massive amounts of steel.

“These fortifications were so powerful the British were forced to create bombs eleven to twenty-thousand pounds in weight to crack them open,” Captain Kane said. “Tallboy and Grandslam they were called. They penetrated the ground and exploded with such force they caused earthquakes.”

“Whoa…” Rosie muttered with interest, looking around.

“Cherbourg itself was never bombed with them. The Allies invaded Europe at Normandy, just a little ways from here. They took these pens with ground forces. Some of these pens were so well made that even the Grandslam bomb didn’t knock them out of action.”

Daddy kept giving Captain Kane dark looks. Harriet blinked as the realization hit her. Daddy was jealous of Captain Kane.

“So what does ‘GIGM’ stand for?” Nan asked Hercule.

“It is ze most elite force in the Sûreté Magique,” he explained. “It stands for Groupe d'intervention de la Gendarmerie Magique.”

“GIGM it is then,” Nan muttered, causing Hercule to laugh.

They reached another door. Hercule opened it and they finally stepped out into the open air. Harriet put up her hands to block out the bright sunlight.

The scent of mould and dust was gone at once. Instead, she once more smelt fresh sea air, and could hear seabirds crying above them.

“And here we are,” Mum said, smiling around. “France.”

“And here are the cars,” said a friendly, all too familiar voice.

Harriet’s face split into a wide grin. There, standing before them, in front of five magnificent looking old cars, was Dora, her sister Emma, her parents, as well as Ronnie, Hermione, Kieran, Scott, and Marcus. They were all here, at last, smiling at her, safe, and sound.

They weren’t alone. Aside from more French Aurors, Fern was also standing with Hermione. Her eyes looked tired, but her cheeks and neck were fuller.

There were tears in Harriet’s eyes as she shrieked with delight and ran to her friends. The first to reach her was Ronnie, though Ronnie grunted in pain and stepped back. Harriet gasped. She had forgotten about her vest in her excitement.

“Sorry!” Harriet said, lifting her shirt to look at the golden vest. “I forgot!”

“How’d you forget about—”

Ronnie was cut off as Hermione pushed past her to hug Harriet as well, though she took the time to slow herself so as not to hit the vest with quite as much force. Harriet hugged all her friends as tight as she could. She felt the lightest she had in months as she looked at all their smiling, relieved faces.

“Oh Harriet, we’ve been so worried.”

“The stories in _The Prophet_ , it’s so terrible.”

“It’s not true, is it? They didn’t really try… not to you…?”

Harriet couldn’t answer all the questions they were firing off at her. Finally, she quieted them all by trying to hug them all at once. They huddled together, hugging her in a big circle. She opened her eyes and saw Fern walking over, looking awkward.

“Hey, Harriet…”

“Hi,” Harriet said, her own sense of awkwardness rising as the group broke apart.

“…That’s him…?” Fern asked, looking down at Finn.

“Oh, yes,” Harriet said, taking him in her hands once more.

Harriet studied Finn for a moment, then slowly held out Finn. Fern’s hands were trembling as she took the jar, brushing her fingers over the smooth exterior.

“He… he always looked out for me,” Fern whispered. “He was always there to make me laugh when Mum was at her worst…”

Harriet swallowed. Fern’s pain was palpable as tears formed in her eyes looking down at Finn.

“You think we can save him?” Fern asked.

“My godfather and his house elf are looking all over for him,” Harriet said. “They even have some leads. We think he might be heading for Dublin… He said he’s looking for people important to him…”

Fern now flung her arms around Harriet’s neck. Harriet staggered back under the much taller girl’s weight. She slowly hugged Fern back.

“Thank you…” Fern whispered. “Thank you…”


	6. Avalon: The House of Flamel

“Alone, the strongest tree can succumb to the mildest of winds. Yet a forest can weather centuries of storms.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet and Fern stepped apart. The pair looked at each other. In that moment, Harriet felt a welling of affection for Fern growing inside her. Finally, Harriet was with someone who shared one of her biggest pains.

“So, you’ve been staying with Hermione?” Harriet asked, trying to change the subject to something happier.

“Yes,” Hermione beamed, stepping up to Fern and taking her hand. “It’s been wonderful getting to know each other again.”

“So crazy, still,” Rosie said, stepping up and looking up at Fern. “Knew you as Alessa for like… _ever_.”

To Harriet’s surprise, rather than looking upset at what must still be a painful subject, Fern smiled. “Yeah, even I’d started getting used to it.”

“So, you had to hide from all your friends for all that time?” Nan asked, sadness welling in her eyes. “That’s awful…”

Now, Fern’s smile did falter. “It was. My other… well… some people knew,” Fern said, shortly.

Harriet tilted her head. Had something happened between Fern and her other friends at Rathlin? Or was it just the Ministry’s raid?

A bustle of activity distracted Harriet. The Aurors were moving from car to car, checking them. They were clearly in a hurry now, some starting to form a defensive perimeter.

Back towards the entrance to the u-boat pen, Professor McGonagall and Daddy were in deep conversation with Commandant Marceau.

“We get to play with Max?” Harriet heard Nan say with a squeak of delight. She saw them standing nearby talking with Emma, their interest in Fern having clearly wavered.

“Ya-huh!” Emma beamed. “He’s _so_ big now!”

The twins emitted little squeals of excitement. Harriet couldn’t help but smiled as she watched. She was happy to see the twins making friends, but also delighted to see how far Emma had come since Harriet first met her. She was so shy back then, barely able to say more than one word to anyone. If she spoke at all. Then she befriended Sirius (in his animagus form) during Harriet’s third year, and slowly she began to open up.

“So, where have you been staying?” Ronnie asked, drawing Harriet’s attention back to her friends.

“Oh, at Sirius’ parents’ old house. I don’t know if I can really say _where_ it is. It was _bizarre,_ though. Like… all dedicated to the Dark Arts…”

“Ugh,” Dora grunted. “I don’t doubt it. My mum’s related to the Blacks. One of her cousins married into them. She _never_ liked them.”

“Who’s that?” Hermione asked, indicating Captain Kane. “He looks familiar?”

Captain Kane was walking nearby, his eyes scanning the buildings. Harriet puzzled for a moment. As he moved, watching their surroundings, his wand in hand, the Captain looked the most alive Harriet had seen him. It was almost as if he wasn’t just ready for a fight; he wanted one.

“That’s Captain Kane,” Harriet replied. “Rachel’s oldest brother.”

“No!” Hermione gasped.

“Yeah,” Harriet said. “He’s a bit intense…”

“Well, he’s going to be our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor,” Dora said knowledgeably.

“How do you know?” Ronnie asked.

“Dad,” Dora said.

“Oh yeah, he’s still a school governor, isn’t he?” said Scott.

“Yep,” Dora smirked. “He’s done a lot to keep the Ministry from totally taking over the school now that Dumbledore’s left.”

“Heh, Krys always bragged about how powerful your family was,” Fern said.

“Krys?” Harriet asked.

“Krystelle,” Dora replied.

“Ohhhhhh,” Harriet nodded, remembering.

Krystelle had been Dora’s childhood friend who went to Rathlin. She was presently dating Mrs Figg’s grand-niece, Portia, Finn’s best friend. Mrs Figg had spoken very highly of Krystelle while Harriet was staying with her.

Harriet suddenly wished Krystelle was here. If it hadn’t been for Krystelle and Dora’s friendship, she probably never would have met Finn. She wanted the chance to thank her, for one thing. For another, Harriet wanted to feel closer with someone else who was upset about Finn.

“So Krystelle’s dad works for yours?” Fern asked Dora.

“Yeah, he’s his VP. He’s in charge of the magical business holdings.”

“So your dad runs a global business conglomerates in both the magical and muggle worlds; he helps run Hogwarts… What else does he run?”

“Um, have you heard of France?”

Even Harriet laughed at this.

“Okay, voyageurs,” came Mr Flamel’s boisterous voice. “It is time we are off!”

Daddy walked over and put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder.

“You kids are in the middle car,” Daddy said, smiling.

“Cool,” Harriet said. Daddy kept a hand on Harriet’s shoulder and walked her over to the middle car where Hercule was waiting, opening the door for her.

Harriet looked the car over. Even Uncle Vernon would have never dreamed of owning a car this fine. It looked old in its design, but it was absolutely spotless. The sides were a soft grey, while the top and hood over the engine were a glossy black. The fairings over the wheels were half tear-drops, and the chrome of the hubcaps, grill, and headlights glinted brightly in the afternoon sun. There was also a chrome hood ornament that looked vaguely like a bird with two long wings pointing straight up in the air.

Harriet stuck her head inside, looking around. Her jaw fell open. The inside of the car was as beautiful as the outside. It had been enlarged, with two plush leather seats, one facing forward and one facing backwards. They looked wide enough for Harriet, her friends, and Fern to sit comfortably. The interior was made of carved cherry wood. There was even a rack between the seats full of chilled bottles of butterbeer.

As the first inside, Harriet seized the opportunity to take the front facing window seat. She didn’t want to miss any of the sights. There was a wide rear window, and three circular sunroofs running from the front to the back.

Scott, Kieran, and Marcus sat on Harriet’s side, while Dora, Ronnie, Fern, and Hermione sat opposite them. Fern smiled warmly across at Kieran. Kieran returned the smile, but he quickly became very interested in putting on his seatbelt.

Harriet turned to look out the rear window. She watched as Mum and Daddy got into the car right behind theirs, both giving her little waves before climbing inside along with the Flamels, the twins, and Emma.

“Lot of cars for not that many of us,” Kieran observed.

“I think most are decoys,” Dora said.

“Zat is correct, Mam’selle Dora,” said Hercule from the front seat. He was in the passenger seat; Captain Kane was driving.

“Hello, Hercule!” Dora grinned over her shoulder at him. “Are we taking the scenic tour this time?”

Hercule gave her a sad look. “Ah, alas, Dora, we are in a hurry for ze sake of security. Ze trip will only be ten minutes at most.”

“Damn,” Dora grumbled, sitting down properly and fastening her seatbelt. She looked around at the rest. “You all _really_ want to put on your seatbelts.”

“Ten minutes?” Scott asked. “Aren’t we going to Paris?”

“Yep,” Dora said. “Remember the Knight Bus?”

Harriet and her friends all exchanged knowing looks and began frantically fastening their seatbelts. Fern was looking around at them all, confusion on her face.

“What’s the Knight—”

Fern didn’t get to finish her sentence. With a bang, the car shot forward, pressing Harriet and the boys back into their seat and the girls across from them lurching against their belts. Except for Fern, who would have toppled forward into Kieran if Hermione and Dora had not been ready and caught her.

“Sorry,” Fern said, looking deeply embarrassed as she fastened her seatbelt.

“D-don’t worry about it,” Kieran said. He stuttered a little as his voice cracked.

Fern gave Kieran a warm smile that made his cheeks flush as red as Ronnie’s hair. Harriet, Scott, and Marcus all gave Kieran little knowing looks that made him blush even brighter.

Now that the cars were moving, they could sit comfortably despite the world whipping past them at blinding speed. The fun of teasing Kieran over, Harriet sighed looking out the window. She’d really wanted to do some proper sight-seeing. She’d never been outside Britain before, but so far all she’d seen of France was the inside of a u-boat pen and now the blur of cities and countryside flashing by.

“Don’t worry,” Dora said, noticing. “We’ll get to see lots once we get there. We have a whole bunch of stuff planned; like it’s going to be your birthday!”

“Oh yeah, I’d almost completely forgotten.”

If Harriet was being honest with herself, she really had forgotten about her upcoming birthday altogether. There had been so much going on that it had been driven completely out of her mind.

Harriet glanced down. Ronnie and Dora were holding hands. Marcus noticed, too.

“So, you two finally ‘official’?” he asked, slyly.

Ronnie went a little red but Dora smiled and squeezed Ronnie’s hand tighter. “Hey, this nightingale caught herself an eagle and she’s holding on.”

Hermione gave out a little squeal of happiness causing Dora to roll her eyes.

“Sorry, you’re just adorable,” Hermione said, stars in her eyes as she looked at the pair.

“An eagle…?” Scott asked, bemused.

Ronnie’s blush grew. “More like a stork,” she muttered.

“Oh hush,” Dora hissed, resting her head on Ronnie’s shoulder.

“So, you live in Paris?” Fern asked Dora, changing the subject.

“Sort of,” Dora replied, looking grateful for the change of subject. “We live just outside Pontoise, where Grandcestor Nicolas was born.”

“Grandcestor,” Marcus chuckled. “I like that.”

“Emma came up with it,” Dora smiled. “It’s easier than trying to remember how many ‘greats’ to add.”

Harriet started to tone out the chit chat. Despite everyone acting casual, she couldn’t help but notice the little glances they kept giving her. She could feel their apprehension and worry, and really did not feel like dealing with it in the car.

Harriet looked out the window instead. This proved much more interesting. Even if she couldn’t see any details of the world whipping past them, she could see the other cars moving along at the same speed. She noted that the cars were all swapping places in line, in a sort of blinding-speed ballet.

“Everyone brace for braking,” Hercule said, bringing Harriet’s mind back to the car.

No sooner had she turned around than the car came to a lurching halt, sending Harriet forward into her seatbelt. She sat back once the car came to a full stop, rubbing her shoulder where the strap had bit in hard.

“Sorry,” Dora said. “They don’t usually travel that fast. Usually we just use them for showing around important people.”

The cars started moving forward again, but at a normal speed for a car, the sound of gravel under the tires.

“More this speed,” Dora added.

Harriet looked back out the windows. She felt a little disappointed. It just looked like normal farms as far as she could see. It was pretty, for sure, but it did not look much different than the countryside of Britain when she travelled on the Hogwarts Express.

“Out the front,” Dora chuckled.

Harriet leaned over to look between Hercule and Captain Kane. Her jaw fell open. They were pulling up to a gate that rivalled the one at the entrance to the Hogwarts grounds. The walls were white, while the gate itself was golden. Intricate lattices lined the top of the walls with little guard towers here and there, topped with pointed red roofs.

She could see a white building inside, at least one story of it, which was also topped with a steep, red roof and two tall towers on either side. It looked like a fairy tale palace.

“Whoa…” Ronnie moaned.

“It’d be better with gnomes,” Dora sighed. She sounded sad, but her eyes twinkled and she gave Ronnie a tiny wink and squeezed her hand tighter.

“Damn right,” Ronnie managed to giggle.

Fern mouthed the word ‘gnomes’ to Hermione, jerking her thumb at Ronnie and Dora, confusion on her face. Hermione rolled her eyes as if to say ‘don’t ask.’

The cars passed through the gate. Harriet leaned around, twisting and turning, trying to take in as much as she could. They were driving past little houses, and Harriet realized they weren’t so much at a house, but a little town.

“Relax,” Dora laughed. “We’re going to be here a month and a half, we have time to see it all!”

“Sorry,” Harriet muttered. “Just excited.”

Dora beamed with pride. Harriet could tell she was excited for her chance to show off a little. The previous summer they had travelled, but only to Hermione’s, Ronnie’s, and Scott’s homes.

The car finally came to a stop and Harriet saw they were parked before a massive, white marble staircase. The staircase led up to the front of the big white building she had seen before, peeking over the top of the walls. The building was three stories tall, and made of the same white marble as the stairs.

Hercule and Captain Kane got out of the car. Hercule opened the door for Harriet, and even held out a hand for her. She felt her cheeks get warm as she took his hand and stepped from the car.

Now she was out, the sight of everything made her marvel. It was indeed a little village surrounded by the walls. The houses were small but very comfortable looking. There was a stable nearby, and what looked to be a little inn or pub. The streets weren’t paved, and witches and wizards were walking along the streets, all in deep conversation. Occasionally they would stop and smile, waving to Mr Flamel who beamed, waving back exuberantly.

Harriet looked back up at the main building. It didn’t look quite as much like a palace now, but it was still impressive. _No wonder Dora doesn’t care what anyone thinks of her_ , Harriet thought, _I don’t think even the Malfoys live in anything like this_. Suddenly, Harriet started to wonder just how much Dora had been joking about her family running France.

“Welcome to Avalon-sur-Oise,” Mr Flamel bellowed cheerfully. “But mostly we just call eet Avalon.”

Harriet looked around at him. He was shaking hands with the Aurors, who were now all starting to disapparate.

“Au revoir, Hercule,” Dora said, waving.

“Au revoir, Mam’selle Dora,” Hercule called and waved back cheerfully. He and Captain Kane disapparated, the last to go.

“Hercule seems nice,” Harriet said.

“He really is,” Dora agreed. “He’s sort of the public face of the Sûreté Magique. He does all their press stuff because, er… Commandant Marceau isn’t the friendliest person.”

“Yeah, I got that impression,” Harriet said before looking down at Finn in his harness. “He made me this.”

“That was very nice of him,” Hermione smiled.

“Bonjour to you! Bonjour to you all!” came a squeaky little voice.

“Miss Dora and Miss Emma return!” cried out an even more shrill voice that was quickly drown out by booming barks.

“Snickers!” Emma shrieked with delight, hurrying up the stairs. “MAX!”

Harriet looked to see a little streak of grey leap from the stairs into Emma’s arms. Harriet raised an eyebrow. Emma was hugging the littlest house-elf that Harriet had ever seen. She supposed this was a young one.

The pair were immediately bowled over by Emma’s massive pet mastiff, Maximus. The dog’s tail was wagging frantically as it bounded around the pair, Emma laughing with glee.

“Yeah, that’s Snickers,” Dora said. “He was a present from my mother’s _other_ family from when I was born, so he’s just about our age. He gets on with Emma the best.”

Everyone looked on with interest, except Hermione. Hermione’s expression was cool. Harriet knew she was doing her best to be polite and keep her disapproval down. Back at Hogwarts, Hermione was the head of a little organization she had made herself called S.P.E.W., or the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare. No one else was all that active, even though she had forced them all to join.

“Snickers missed Miss Emma so!” the little elf squeaked.

“Awwwwww, I missed you too,” Emma cooed.

Dora snorted. “We were only gone one day…”

Emma and Snickers both gave Dora a dirty look as Max began rubbing up against everyone else, whining excitedly for pets and scratches. Harriet indulged him before the twins began monopolizing him, cooing over how cute he was, hugging him tight and scratching behind his big floppy ears.

Harriet returned her attention to Snickers. Like all house-elves Harriet knew, with the exception of Dobby, Snickers did not wear clothing. Instead, he wore a white curtain fashioned into a sort of toga. He had a wide flat nose, in contrast to Dobby’s pointed one, Winky’s little tomato one, and Kreacher’s beak.

Daddy and Mum walked over now, looking up at the building with wonder.

 “Wow…” Daddy said.

“Welcome to our estate,” Mr Flamel smiled, walking over. “Treat it as your own while you are here! Come! Come inside! Come inside!”

Mr Flamel started up the steps, a spring in his gait. Dora’s mum smiled affectionately at him.

“We don’t often entertain guests in the main house,” she said quietly to Daddy and Mum. “It’s not… terribly intimate. Usually we treat them in our home in Penzance, it feels more like a proper home.”

“How many homes do you have?” Rosie asked.

“Rosie!” Nan hissed.

Mrs Flamel chuckled giving Rosie a radiant smile. “We have several. My husband has a passion and quite a talent for business. He has rebuilt the Flamel name from almost total obscurity.”

“Cool,” Rosie smiled.

The group started up the steps. At the top of the stairs stood two more house-elves, speaking with Mr Flamel. One looked to be somewhere between Winky and Dobby in age. He had an upturned nose, and also wore a white curtain toga. The other caught Harriet completely off guard.

It was the oldest house-elf Harriet had ever seen. His skin was more wrinkled than an elephant’s, and his nose looked closer to Dobby’s. He had big white tufts of hair growing out of his drooping ears, and even had a wispy white beard. That wasn’t what truly surprised Harriet, however.

This elf was wearing proper clothes. He was leaning heavily on a polished black cane with a shiny golden handle. He wore a bright red vest with a paisley pattern on it, much like the ones Professor Howe wore, and a finely pressed white button up shirt. On his lower half he wore light grey trousers and was even wearing shoes that looked to have been custom made for his long flat feet.

“Bonjour, Castillon,” Mrs Flamel said, smiling warmly down at the aged elf.

“Bonjour, Madame Flamel, bonjour our worthy guests,” Castillon said, waving a shaky hand at them.

“Castillon worked for Grandcestor Nicolas,” Dora whispered.

“’Worked for’?” Hermione asked. “Not served?”

“Castillon’s really old,” Dora explain. “Like, as old as Grandcestor Nicolas and Perenelle. They gave him elixir of life, too.”

“Really? So why didn’t he pass away when the Stone was destroyed?” Scott asked, studying the ancient elf with interest.

Dora shrugged. “We’re not sure. House-elves live longer than humans generally. Anyway, we think he’s actually older than house-elf enslavement. He’s _always_ worn clothes. He’s Dad’s most trusted confidante, and he looks after the estate for us.”

Hermione sniffed. Clearly, she was not terribly impressed by this. Harriet supposed she had a point. Even if Castillon was a free elf, the Flamels still owned two normal house elves.

“And this is Beauregard,” Mr Flamel said, introducing the third elf.

The elf simply bowed his head to them all.

“Beauregard doesn’t speak English very well, and it embarrasses him a little,” Dora whispered. “He was a wedding present from some of Dad’s _other_ family.”

“There are more Flamel’s?” Kieran asked.

“Lots of people claim to be related to us,” Dora muttered. “Especially since Dad became head of the family.”

Mr Flamel opened the large front double doors wide, grinning.

“Come inside! Inside!”

“Daddy grew up here,” Dora explained under her breath as they followed him into the house. “I prefer the place in Penzance, but… it _is_ really pretty.”

“Not wrong…” Marcus whistled.

The entrance hall was almost as big as Hogwarts’. It was all made of white marble, with soft, dark red area rugs, three large, golden chandeliers, and a large fountain framed by two sets of stairs leading up to the second floor. The railings of the stairs and the second floor looked to be made of ebony. The room was bright from the many open windows and the room’s white motif.

“Construction on zis house began in 1636, well after Nicolas decided to retire from public life,” Mr Flamel told them as he led them to the stairs. “The Flamel family… went through a zort of dark age. Ze money was constantly squandered in trying to live a lavish lifestyle. Grandcestor Nicolas would of course help out in times of most dire financial need…”

“Grandcestor Nicolas hated this place,” Dora whispered under her breath, distracting Harriet from Mr Flamel’s tour. “He gave away most of his share of the family fortune when he retired. He moved into a little house in Paris. He then gave that away to the Muggles and it’s a restaurant now. It’s the oldest stone house in Paris.”

“Cool,” Marcus whispered.

They followed Mr Flamel through the house as he explained the history of nearly every piece of art, every room, every nook and cranny. It was then that Harriet noticed something odd. There were clocks almost everywhere. They were all beautiful, ticking away in almost perfect unison. Their designs were all intricate, and most were gold. Every clock had the name ‘Le Malf’ on the face in intricate black script.

“I’ve modelled for Le Malf before,” Fern whispered, following Harriet’s gaze. “They must be fans. They make amazing watches, too. See?”

Fern held up her left wrist, showing Harriet a beautiful gold and silver watch.

“I’ve never had to wind it once since I bought it,” Fern explained.

“You’re welcome,” croaked the aged elf, Castillon, as he walked along with them, his little cane clicking on the stone floor, Beauregard walking alongside him, keeping a close eye on the old elf.

Harriet and Fern gave each other glances and shrugged.

Mr Flamel led them out onto a wide balcony on the second floor next. It looked out over the whole village, a charming red and white little haven.

“Zey began constructing ze grounds in 1401,” Mr Flamel explained. “Grandcestor Nicolas envisioned zis as a place for ze most brilliant magical and muggle minds to come togezer for ze betterment of mankind. Zis was back before ze Statute of Secrecy, of course. It now serves half zat purpose again. The village has homes zat are available to great magical thinkers. Zey stay here free of charge; everything provided for them. In return, the Flamel family gets part of ze profits from zeir work. Ah-hah! See zere?”

Mr Flamel pointed to a man walking along the street, meandering a little as he read a scroll of parchment.

“Damocles Belby, inventor of the Wolfsbane potion. He is here trying to perfect it, hoping zat soon he will be able to cure lycanthropy completely. Bonjour, Damocles!”

Damocles stopped in the street, looking around in confusion before looking up and beaming at Mr Flamel, returning his wave.

“Ah! Good day to you too, Charles! A glorious day!”

Hermione’s cool expression vanished at once. The realization she was going to be living in a village full of the greatest magical thinkers in the wizarding world seemed to win her over in an instant as she began looking around for more familiar faces in the people below. Scott was leaning over with her, equally excited.

“Isn’t that Gaspard Shingleton?” Scott asked. “The guy who invented the Self-Stirring Cauldron?”

“Oui, my boy, oui,” Mr Flamel beamed. “He is hoping to expand into self-heating cauldrons as well. Make any potion perfectly, no matter where you are! As long as you’ve got the ingredients, you’ve got the potion!”

Mr Flamel’s enthusiasm was infectious. Even Harriet was smiling widely as they resumed the tour.

“Here we reach the third floor,” Mr Flamel explained. “The living quarters. There are ten rooms here, quite enough for all I should think.”

“More than enough, dear,” Mrs Flamel said.

“You’re staying with me!” Emma told the twins, excitedly.

“Zat one is our room,” Mr Flamel said, indicating one at the end of the hallway. “Next to us will be Daniel an’ Aurora.”

“This is my room, this is my room!” Emma grinned, taking the twins hands. “Come on!”

The three vanished into the room, Mr Flamel laughing joyfully.

“Across from them will be Dora and Ronnie.”

Dora gave Ronnie a very sly look behind Mr Flamel’s back.

“Next to zem shall be ze boys,” Mr Flamel continued. “Across from them will be ‘Ermione and Fern.”

Harriet looked around a little, confused. Who was she staying with?”

“And you, ‘Arriet, will ‘ave your own room,” Mr Flamel said kindly, gesturing to the room directly across from the one Daddy and Mum were staying in.

Harriet felt her sense of awkwardness rising.

“Oh, no that’s not necessary,” Harriet stammered.

“It’s quite alright, dear,” Mrs Flamel said.

Harriet glanced around at her friends. They all gave her encouraging smiles.

“Well, o-okay,” Harriet said.

“Now, since it is closing on zat time, ‘ow about we head down to ze inn for some lunch?”

“A wonderful idea, Charles,” Aurora agreed.

“Magnifique!” Charles declared.

## * * * *

Lunch was proving a little overwhelming. The food was delicious, but the atmosphere was positively raucous for somewhere that was supposed to be full of the most brilliant minds in the magical world. Mr Flamel was the life of the room, introducing them to a whirlwind of famous witches and wizards. He even led them in a few songs.

“Dad thinks that overwork stifles creativity,” Dora told them, raising her voice to be heard over the din. “Their houses are for work, but the inn is for fun.”

Harriet did notice that she was not the only one who felt out of place. Fern was barely speaking, either. Everyone was talking. Hermione and Scott were bombarding Dora with questions about famous people who’d stayed there. Ronnie was talking with Marcus about ideas for the upcoming football league.

This finally seemed to rouse Fern’s interest. “You have a football league at Hogwarts?” she asked.

“Oh yeah,” Marcus smiled. “I got it started.”

“Cool,” Fern grinned. “I love football. It’s what I really wanted to do before Mum wouldn’t let me, anymore. She was worried about me hurting myself and my _career_.”

“Well you’re welcome to try out for whatever house you wind up in,” Marcus said. “You’ll probably get on, there’s not a lot of participation yet.”

“And there’s Quidditch,” Kieran said, giving Harriet an encouraging smile. “There’ll be that!”

Harriet smiled earnestly now. She was eager to get back to Quidditch. Just the memory of the freedom of zipping through the sky on her _Firebolt_ gave Harriet a jolt of joy in her stomach.

With lunch over, they began heading back to the big house. Everyone was stuffed and their pace was leisurely at best. Mr Flamel was still deep in discussion with Daddy and Mum.

“So how long has this place been open?” Hermione asked.

“Actually not that long,” Dora replied. “Basically, everything you see going on was Dad’s doing. He and Castillon pretty much saved the Flamel name.”

“How’s that?” Kieran asked.

“Well… Grandcestor Nicolas didn’t really care for business… he created the Stone while trying to stop the Black Death. Making gold was just… an ‘unfortunate accident’ as he called it. It was all the rest of the family cared about, and all that most any magical or muggle people cared about.”

Dora sighed. “So—like Dad said during the tour—most the family’s money was squandered over the years. But Dad and Grandcestor Nicolas really got on well. Unlike Grandcestor Nicolas, though, Dad has a real flair for business. He told Dad all about how the grounds used to be meant for all this,” Dora gestured around. “So… Dad got the idea of starting that again, but just asking that the inventors give a percentage back to the Flamels.”

“Clever,” Scott nodded.

“Yeah, that started paying off really fast. Then he worked with Castillon. Castillon’s just as ancient as Grandcestor Nicolas so he’s pretty damn smart. Castillon got him branching out and investing in other things. Like now we’re selling gold plated vests—like that one you’re wearing, Harriet—to the MACUSA. Very little of our money is actually from gold made by the Stone. I mean we do have a _lot_ of gold, but we don’t do too much with it. It did pretty much ruin our family. We hardly talk with any of the other Flamels anymore…”

Ronnie put an arm around Dora’s shoulder. They broke off the conversation as they got back to the house. A welcome, but very unhappy sight greeted them as they approached. Standing on the front steps, flanked by two French Aurors, was a very disgruntled looking Remus and Sirius, along with a wizard with straw-coloured hair who Harriet didn’t recognize and Mad-Eye Moody. Their trunks were arrayed around the men.

“Hedwig!” Harriet grinned as her snowy owl fluttered up from Harriet’s trunk to her shoulder.

“Well, that was an unpleasant surprise,” Sirius muttered darkly as the group reached them.

To Harriet’s surprise, rather than looking angry, Mad-Eye seemed deeply impressed.

“I couldn’t disagree more, Sirius. Damned fine idea, that was!” Mad-Eye declared. “Amazed I hadn’t thought of it myself! Like the way this captain fellow thinks. A worthy _proper_ successor to Remus, he’ll make!”

Remus cleared his throat and suddenly became very interested in one of the nearby homes.

“Yeah, ‘damned fine,’ and left us looking like morons standing on the cliffs of Dover,” Sirius growled.

“Yeah, I wasn’t too chuffed about that either,” Daddy said. “They didn’t tell us a thing about it.”

Remus sighed. “I… I believe I agree with Mad-Eye in this instance. It was the smartest move that ensured everyone was the safest.”

“We were bait!” Sirius snapped.

“We were _expecting_ an attack, Sirius,” Remus countered. “We all arrived on the spot with our wands drawn ready for an onslaught. If anything, _we_ would have had the upper hand, as the Death Eaters were liable to think they were the ones catching us with our guard down.”

Sirius and Daddy sighed.

“You always had to be the reasonable one, didn’t you?” Daddy muttered.

“Someone had to be,” Remus chortled.

“So, back off to Belfast?” Daddy asked Sirius, his eyes narrowed shrewdly.

Sirius spluttered. “Remus? You told him?”

Daddy laughed. “No, I guessed. Seeing Finn’s hat in Harriet’s room this morning confirmed it.”

Sirius grumbled. “Too smart for your own good, you know?”

“I do my best,” Daddy grinned.

Dora gave Harriet and the rest significant looks before turning to her parents.

“Mum, Dad, we’re going to take our things up to our rooms, okay?”

“Certainly, dear,” Mrs Flamel agreed.

Everyone took their trunks and began hauling them into the house.

“This way,” Dora said, leading them to a set of doors. “It’s an elevator.”

“Oh, thank Merlin,” Ronnie groaned in relief, causing Dora to laugh.

They crammed into the elevator, which became very full despite its enlargements, and rode it all the way up to the top floor. They squeezed out as best they could and made their way to their rooms. Harriet still felt awkward being the only one with her own room.

Finally seeing the inside of the room did not help. The room was every bit as beautiful as the one she stayed in at the McIntyres’. Whereas the room in McIntyre Manor had been deep earthly tones, this room was light and airy. The walls were white, and the ceiling the same colour as the clearest blue sky. The bed was enormous, wide enough for three people and covered in a thick, fluffy, feather duvet with three sets of feather pillows. As with the rest of the room, it was a brilliant white.

There was a set of glass doors leading out onto her own personal balcony. While McIntyre Manor had given Harriet the impression she was in a wooded glen, the Flamel estate was giving her the feeling she was living in a cloud. It was simply too much.

Hedwig fluttered up onto the railing of the balcony, hooting softly. Harriet hurried over, opening the doors and sighing, breathing in the fresh summer air. In the distance she could make out the edges of Paris. There was even a rack for Harriet to put her broomstick on, so she could fly direct from her room without having to walk all the way down the stairs.

Hedwig hooted and hopped onto Harriet’s forearm then onto her shoulder, nuzzling up to Harriet’s head. Harriet stroked Hedwig’s soft fluffy feathers.

“Hedwig…” Harriet said softly, turning to look at the beautiful room once more. “I think… for once… for a little while, anyway… things might be okay…”

## * * * *

Harriet felt in a daze for the rest of the day. After so much stress and hardship, she was somehow unable to comprehend for once not being worried. Even more surprising was the fact Harriet and her friends were given almost the run of the house.

“Ze grounds are protected by ze strongest defensive spells, and ze perimeter is constantly patrolled by Aurors. It would take an army to break into zis place,” Mr Flamel told them all. “And besides, no one is even knowing you are here. So! Here you are to be free and enjoy yourselves, zat is an order!”

They spent most of that day hanging out together. Dora took them on a tour of the little town. Despite what she said about preferring their other home in Penzance, Harriet could tell Dora was starting to get some of her father’s enthusiasm for showing them around.

At first, Harriet was happiest to finally take off the stuffy vest. The heat-wave had hit here in France as well, it seemed, and Harriet was delighted to change into a nice light tank top and shorts. The other girls were of the same mind.

Harriet was most curious about the house, however. It was so old and so beautiful. Just as McIntyre Manor, Harriet was sure it was full of secrets. She wasn’t as certain she would ever feel as at home here as she had at the McIntyre’s. Even as large as their manor was, it had still felt more like a proper home.

There was also the Flamel’s mysterious house-elves. Castillon was a free elf. In fact, Dora had said that Castillon was older than elf enslavement. So why were they keeping other house-elves? What did Castillon think of the other two? She knew that ‘normal’ house-elves went into fits of panic at the idea of being freed.

Was that it? Dora had said they were given Beauregard and Snickers as gifts, and she hadn’t sounded terribly thrilled about it. Yet Emma was so close with Snickers. It was just bizarre to Harriet. She supposed she should ask, but wasn’t sure how to just yet.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem as though she was going to get the chance to do any exploring anytime soon. Now that Harriet and her friends were together, it was clear they were not going to let her out of their sight.

 _Maybe it’s good that I have my own bedroom?_ Harriet thought as they now headed back upstairs after dinner. _I can have something like privacy_.

Daddy had talked Remus into staying for at least a night. Sirius was true to his word and left to resume his search for Finn. Even more exciting, to Harriet, was Sirius’ other good news.

“ _I’m going to bring Kreacher along,_ ” he told her. “ _We’ll see how true to his word he is, but… I suppose… it’ll be good for him to be out and about… and he can move even more secretly than I can…”_

Feeling much happier about this, Harriet found herself enjoying the rest of the evening more than before. After dinner, where Harriet even tried to join in on the singing despite not knowing the words, they went out onto the big second floor balcony from earlier. There were now ample comfortable lounge chairs spread across the balcony, a small table next to each with a bucket of ice and two bottles of Butterbeer in each.

There was a table under a wide umbrella next to them with several bottles of wine and glasses. The adults moved to this one at once, while Dora sighed contentedly, lounging back in one of the chairs.

“Mmmmmm, kick back,” Dora grinned, gesturing to the other chairs.

Harriet lay back on hers and moaned. The chair seemed to contour perfectly to her body, almost as though she was lying on a cloud rather than a chair.

“Ohhhh,” Kieran smiled, stretching out happily, straightening his bad leg.

The hinge of the brace squeaked as he did, and Harriet grimaced at the misshapen way his leg looked from the brace.

“I bet it feels good on your leg, huh?” Rosie asked.

“It does, yes,” Kieran smiled.

Kieran’s smile faltered a little as he looked down at his leg. Harriet grimaced. She knew why. Doctor Watkins had been working on a perfect brace for Kieran’s leg so he could walk properly without needing a walking stick, or a limp. But now, Doctor Watkins was in Azkaban with Professor Howe.

“How did it happen?” Emma asked.

She and the twins were all sitting on the edge of one of one of the chairs next to Kieran. Their eyes were wide and their faces eager.

“I… well… it happened when I was just a kid,” Kieran said rubbing the back of his head awkwardly. “Like, just a babe… Death Eaters attacked my parents. My parents ended up getting the upper hand, so one of them… Vincent _Crabbe’s_ father… took a shot at my crib to distract my parents so he and the others could escape.”

The three girls gasped, Nan clapping a hand over her mouth. Kieran was getting very red in the face, but he was starting to smile again. Harriet felt herself starting to smile too. Kieran was generally the most bashful of their group, but he was clearly enjoying the attention.

Harriet’s other friends, who already knew this story, were starting to break off into their own conversations. Hermione was still showering Dora with questions about the Flamel family businesses.

“Le Malf is just Flamel backwards?” she asked, looking as though she wasn’t sure if that was silly or clever.

“Yep,” Dora smiled. “It sounds trendy but sophisticated, yet mysterious. I wouldn’t be surprised if there are secret groups that meet trying to find out just what exactly ‘Malf’ means.”

“So… I’ve technically modelled for _you_ before?” Fern asked, holding up her watch again.

Dora twisted her lips. “I guess so… granted a _lot_ of models have done work for our ad campaigns.”

“How do they work so well?” Fern asked.

Dora’s smirk returned. “Family secret.”

Scott and Marcus were talking about the upcoming school year.

“So, that Captain Kane guy’s teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts?” Marcus asked. “Better than some Ministry plant.”

Scott snorted in agreement. “I hear that… not that they haven’t placed some.”

“Like who?”

Ronnie growled, having overheard. “Like my stupid brother, Percy.”

Harriet spluttered into her butterbeer. “What?”

“Yeah,” Ronnie hissed. “Jumped up prat… he’s taking McGonagall’s place. As Transfiguration teacher _and_ as head of Gryffindor House!”

“No!” Marcus gasped.

“’Fraid so,” Ronnie sighed.

Recovering, Harriet set down her Butterbeer. “Well, what’s wrong with that?”

Ronnie sniffed. “Percy’s totally bought the Ministry line. All about Dumbledore bringing in Kinney and saying You-Know-Who’s back to cause trouble and trying to turn you into his puppet.”

Harriet felt her upper lip curl into an involuntary snarl. How were so many people buying that? Was it really that easy for people to ignore something just because they didn’t want to hear it?

“There was a big row about it back home,” Ronnie said, looking up at the darkening sky. “Fudge promoted Percy into his own office. Percy was all excited about it but then _Dad_ got all pissed because Fudge just wants Percy to spy on the family. Well, that really pissed _Percy_ off, so he stormed out and we haven’t seen him since, except in the papers.”

Fighting off the sudden urge to smash her butterbeer bottle into the wall as hard as she could, Harriet returned her attention to Kieran.

“Well, I rather liked your walking stick,” Rosie declared. “It made you look cool and distinguished.”

Kieran went very red. Harriet tried to fight back a giggle. She saw Dora and Hermione still deep in conversation, though Fern seemed to have bowed out. Instead, she was watching Kieran, Emma and the twins too. Harriet studied Fern’s face. She was glancing back and forth between Kieran and the twins, an odd expression on her face. Harriet wondered if she still felt guilty about having hurt Kieran at the Yule Ball, when a fairy had briefly removed the enchantment that disguised Fern’s face when she was in public, causing Fern to panic and flee, knocking Kieran’s walking stick out from under him and hurting his knee.

“Ah-hah!” Mr Flamel beamed, pointing over the railing. “The show begins!”

Harriet and the others rose. The twins were quick to help Kieran to his feet, grinning up at him. Harriet was sure that Kieran’s face was about to burst into flames now.

They moved to the railing and looked down into the large back garden of the house. There were little dots of light moving about, blinking on and off.

“What are they?” Rosie asked. “Fairies?”

Mr Flamel gave a boisterous laugh. “Non! Non, little one! They are fireflies!”

“Ohhhhh,” Ronnie said. “Wow, I’ve never seen this many. We don’t get them much around our house.”

“We have lots of them,” Marcus smiled. “Granted our house is decidedly Muggle.”

“Sutler talks about them in his notes,” Ronnie said. “They create light through bioluminescence. They mix chemicals in their abdomens that glow. It’s… what is it…? Luciferase and luciferin. There’s some others, like oxygen, but it’s amazing, isn’t it? This tiny little beetle and it makes light! Like with just its own body! We need magic for that!”

Ronnie looked around at the incredulous looks all her friends were giving her.

“What?” Ronnie asked.

Dora giggled pecking Ronnie’s cheek. “Nothing, you’re just a marvel.”

Ronnie beamed as Harriet returned her attention to the horizon. She could see the lights of Paris in the distance. Even from this far away, she could just make out the Eiffel Tower.

“Kinda romantic, isn’t it?” Scott asked, nudging Harriet’s shoulder.

Harriet sighed, looking down at Finn.

“It’d be nicer to be watching it with him…”

Scott smiled at her softly. “Finn’ll be fine. Colm told me all about him. He’s a tough cookie.”

“I hope you’re right…” Harriet said, setting Finn on the railing. His memories twisted and swirled, even twinkling a little in the lights, as though Finn himself was full of fireflies. _He’ll be okay_ , Harriet told herself. _He has to be_.

## * * * *

Harriet grunted. She had just drifted off to sleep when something woke her. She was still groggy from her sleeping potion, and her head was still tingling with the chill of her latest dose of the anti-swelling solution that Healer Smethwyck had given her.

She put on her glasses and looked around the room. There wasn’t anything out of place. Hedwig was sitting on top of her cage, looking over at Harriet. Hedwig gave one little hoot. Harriet was just about to lay back down when there was clearly a tiny knock on the door.

“Harriet?” she heard Hermione whisper. “Are you asleep?”

“No,” Harriet said back, stifling a yawn and sitting up all the way.

The door opened. To Harriet’s surprise, Hermione wasn’t alone. In fact, following Hermione into the room was Fern, Ronnie, and Dora.

Harriet blinked looking around as the girls all climbed onto Harriet’s bed, sitting in a semi-circle around her.

“Um, what’s up?” Harriet asked, unsure of what was coming.

“I wanted to talk,” Fern said. “After what I read about the attack…”

“Oh…?” Harriet said, feeling ganged up on a little.

“I just want to make sure you know you’re not alone,” Fern said. “You said in your letter to Hermione that you’re seeing a therapist, and that’s great, but… I think you need some real support. Like I got…”

Hermione put a hand on Fern’s squeezing it caringly. Fern smiled kindly at Hermione.

“Y-you… you too?” Harriet asked.

“Kind of… all of us…” Ronnie said, hugging her chest.

Harriet looked from face to face. “What do you mean?”

Fern sighed. “Harriet, I basically sold my looks… I constantly was being dolled up to look like I was twenty… Of course I’ve had creeps after me. Just over a year ago an event promoter offered my mum double our usual rate for a ‘private chat’ with me…”

“Oh, god,” Dora gasped. Harriet’s stomach churned.

“Yeah—she didn’t!” Fern said quickly. “My mum was awful but she never sank that low. She ruined him over it, good.”

“Good!” Ronnie snarled.

“Anyway… there were other times she didn’t know about…” Fern said. “Especially when I was younger and didn’t know any better… I let threats and things get to me… I let them pressure me into being quiet…”

Hermione hugged Fern tight. Fern returned her hug.

“I’m okay, now,” Fern said. “I’m out of that hell… but there’s a lot I’ll never forget…”

Hermione nodded, sighing. “And me, I had that Scabior creep our second year…”

Harriet’s chest tightened. She’d forgotten about that. How could she have forgotten about that? She suddenly felt like a terrible friend.

“You guys just saw him in once, but that wasn’t the only time,” Hermione chewed her lip.

Harriet was remembering. She remembered speaking with Mum about the night she had the ‘wet dream’ as Mum had called it. Mum had pointed out how her friends were going through all she had, but were probably too afraid to tell Harriet about it, just as she was too afraid to tell them. This was the same.

“He tried sneaking in a couple times before that. He’d call me kitty… he’d make jokes in the hallway about when I was going to ‘come into heat’…”

“Oh, Hermione,” Dora said, the pain palpable in her voice.

Hermione took a calming breath. “Thank you… he was expelled shortly after that… it was never really said why, but I could guess…”

“He’s gone now,” Ronnie said.

“I know,” Hermione said smiling again.

“And I… I don’t… I haven’t really had anything like that happen,” Dora said. “But I have had my share of harassment… as a Flamel, I had a _lot_ of boys after me from around the village here. Kids of inventors and stuff. They all thought if they got in good with the head-honcho’s kid it’d help get them ‘into the family.’”

Dora glowered, but took Ronnie’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “It’s why I sort of wear being into other girls on my sleeve. I _had_ to. I had to hammer it into their stupid heads that I didn’t want what they were selling. And I knew Hogwarts would be no different.

Dora took a deep breath. “Like the wizarding world likes to brag about how ‘accepting’ it is of being gay compared to the muggles, but they’re not when it’s inconvenient. So, they’d call me all kinds of things: dyke, lesbo… They’d tell me they could ‘change’ me, like I’m broken. They’d joke that I’m just faking… it’s… in fact it’s why I’ve never really liked being here very much. Having you all here is the most fun I think I’ve ever had here.”

Ronnie hugged Dora tightly. Dora smiled softly, hugging back. “Mmmmm, my big eagle…”

Ronnie giggled and softly kissed the top of Dora’s head. Harriet looked to Ronnie. Ronnie had always lived a fairly sheltered life as far as Harriet knew. What could she have gone through?

Ronnie sighed and ran a hand through her hair. Harriet was briefly distracted by the realization that Ronnie seemed to be growing it out. It was usually so short to almost be boyish.

“I… You remember the summer before our second year?” Ronnie asked Harriet. “When I was doing football?”

“Yeah…?”

“Remember how I didn’t want to do any of the after stuff, because of the boys…?”

Harriet thought, then remembered. “Oh yeah,” Harriet said, once more feeling oblivious and terrible as a friend. “I just… I thought you were just being shy…”

Ronnie sniffed. “Well, I was a lot shyer back then… but no, it was the stupid boys… they’d constantly try to peek into our locker rooms… they whisper about us… they’d try and steal our clothes… they’d run into us on the pitch and ‘oops, sorry’ suddenly there’s a hand on your boob or your arse…”

Ronnie took a deep breath. “Like they’d treat it like it was a game! Like they’d laugh about it! It’s part of why I decided to be a keeper!”

It was Dora’s turn to hug Ronnie, pulling the taller girl down to rest her head on Dora’s shoulder, stroking her hair gently. Harriet was struggling with what to feel. On the one hand, she felt terrible for all her friends had gone through. She felt even worse that none of them had felt comfortable talking about it. And yet, at the same time, she felt a connection with Hermione, Dora, and Ronnie that she hadn’t before. And the beginnings of a connection she had begun feeling over Finn was now stronger as well.

“And it’s not like we’re trying to say all boys do this,” Hermione said reasonably. “Obviously, Kieran, Marcus, and Scott would never do things like that.”

“And Finn wouldn’t either,” Fern added, giving Harriet a comforting look.

Harriet felt her cheeks warm. “Well… he did joke about kidnapping me at Hallowe’en…”

Hermione rolled her eyes but kept smiling. “Harriet, you were dressed as Nancy Drew, that was a fairly natural joke to make.”

“I know…” Harriet said. “Just… I liked it…”

The others stared at Harriet.

“You liked the thought of being kidnapped?” Dora asked, blinking.

“K-kinda?” Harriet grimaced and shrugged. “More like… the…” Harriet closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She could do this “being… you know… tied-up part, being tied all tight and held and…”

Dora’s eyes went wide but her face lit up. “No!” she gasped. “You?!”

“What?” Ronnie asked, confused.

Dora fell back on the bed, laughing.

“Oh, shut up!” Harriet snapped, hitting Dora with her pillow. “That took a lot to admit!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Dora said, sitting up and blocking another fluffy blow. “Just… Harriet Potter… like the most bad-arse witch in the world who’s stopped You-Know-Who three times now, killed a basilisk, fought giant acromantula… _that_ Harriet Potter also likes being tied-up.”

“It isn’t funny, Dora!” Hermione reprimanded. “Harriet likes what she likes and there is nothing funny about it!”

Harriet had the strong urge to tackle Hermione in the most grateful hug she had ever given anyone in her life.

“I’m not knocking it!” Dora said. “I just never would have guessed in a million years!”

Harriet still felt torn. On the one hand, Dora’s initial reaction had stung a little, but on the other none of them were calling her a freak. In fact, all of them were smiling at her. She’d told them, and they accepted her. She’d told Kieran, and he’d accepted her. She’d told Sirius, and he’d accepted her. She’d told the twins, and they’d accepted her. She’d told Sebastian, and he told her she was perfectly normal.

“The point is, Harriet,” Hermione said, still giving Dora a disapproving sideways glance. “We’re here for you, and maybe our experiences aren’t all the same… but we’re all in this together.”

Harriet sniffed. Her eyes were starting to get blurry. Hermione, Dora, Ronnie, and even Fern leant in, pulling Harriet into a group hug. Harriet gave another sniff, just letting the tears come as she hugged back, feeling a long-coming, and well deserved, sense of peace.


	7. Explorations and Elves

“A puddle of true understanding can do worlds’ more good than an ocean of good intentions ill-placed.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

“Morning, sleepy-head.”

Daddy’s familiar voice brought a smile to Harriet’s face before she even opened her eyes. She had fallen asleep well after three in the morning, but the talk had helped her, and the bed was so comfortable that Harriet felt the most refreshed she could remember.

“Morning,” she replied, sitting up and brushing back her hair from her face. “What time is it?”

“Almost noon,” Daddy chuckled. “Brought your medicine.”

Harriet found her glasses on the bedside table and put them on, the room coming into focus. Daddy held out two goblets for her: one of Sebastian’s brew, and one of the anti-swelling solution. Harriet drank Sebastian’s first, then Healer Smethwyck’s. To her relief, the tingling of the potion did not last nearly as long this time, which Harriet took to mean the swelling was being healed.

“So, you have a good chat last night?” Daddy asked.

“You heard?”

“I heard the girls sneaking into your room,” Daddy replied. “I didn’t listen in, cross my heart.”

Harriet chewed her lip a little. “Yeah, it was really great… we talked about… girl stuff?”

Daddy chuckled softly and put an arm around Harriet’s shoulder.

“I’m glad you’re here with friends,” he said gently. “Laughing and living will do you a lot more good than staying back in that stuffy old house.”

“Yeah, I think so,” Harriet agreed.

“ _However_ ,” Daddy said, “there is something I want to talk to you about.”

“Hmm?”

Daddy sighed. “I know yesterday Charles said you can go anywhere… but—”

“I need to stick to the house?”

“Not exactly. There will be Aurors patrolling around and inside the walls. But we don’t want you going _anywhere_ alone, okay? If you’re going outside the house you’re only to go with your friends with you.”

Harriet looked up at him. That last part was not a request.

“ _But_ , if you’re inside the house, you can go anywhere, okay?” Daddy added.

Harriet gave him a sceptical look. “You’re being oddly cool about this…”

Daddy sighed. “Heh, it was _maybe_ my first impulse to keep us all barricaded in Grimmauld Place forever until the end of time, but Rora talked me out of it…”

Harriet rolled her eyes, but smiled all the same.

“Still, I want you to promise me— _promise me_ —Harriet: you won’t go sneaking off alone outside this house.”

“I promise,” Harriet said without hesitation.

She meant it. There was plenty about the house that she wanted to explore, but the village didn’t interest her much. They would have a much harder time keeping Hermione and Scott from sneaking out to the village, Harriet thought.

Daddy studied Harriet’s face for a moment but seemed to decide he believed her.

“Alright, well go ahead and get dressed. Your friends want to go down to the river for a picnic.”

Harriet smiled widely. “Deal.”

Daddy ruffled her hair and got up, pausing to stroke Hedwig’s head. Hedwig puffed up her feathers contentedly and gave a twittering hoot of appreciation. Daddy gave Harriet one last smile before leaving the room.

Harriet stretched before sliding out of bed. She set DIDS on her shoulder. Even if he wasn’t a real dragon, he still seemed to enjoy showers and baths. Harriet stumbled groggily into the bathroom and stopped dead in her tracks. The bathroom was just as opulent as the rest of the house. There was a large walk in shower, with multiple shower heads on the three walls and the ceiling, as well as a hand-held one.

“Whoa…” Harriet grinned. “Okay, I can get used to this…”

The shower was stocked with a myriad of shampoos, conditioners, and soaps. She took down the hand-held shower head, finding it had a dial of spray settings, most of them some form of massage. Her grin only grew as she turned on the water. It was already steaming as every head began to spray.

Harriet hung the hand-held head back up and disrobed quickly. One minute later she felt she was in ecstasy as she adjusted the water to the temperature she wanted, getting it as hot as she could stand. She was beginning to feel clean, even before using any of the soaps. She felt as though the weight of the world was being washed away by the water whilst DIDS splashed about in the little puddles on the floor of the shower.

It was another forty-five minutes before Harriet left the bathroom. She felt as though she had whole new skin. She smelled like lilacs, and the towel she was wrapped in was soft, warm, and fluffy. It felt as though she was wearing a cloud. There was also an enchanted hairbrush on the counter that dried her hair and undid all tangles as she brushed.

Back in her bedroom, she’d just finished putting on clean undergarments when there was a knock on her door.

“Harriet?” Hermione called. Her voice was pleasant and eager.

“Yeah, almost ready.”

“It’s just me and Fern,” Hermione called back.

“Oh, come on in!”

The door opened and the girls entered. Hermione was dressed simply in a red tee-shirt, jean capris, and black flats. Fern’s attire was a bit flashier. She wore a light, white peasant top with lacy half-sleeves, along with a maroon pair of cut-off jean shorts, pink flip-flop sandals, and a pair of dark, aviator sunglasses hanging from the front of her collar.

“So, we’re going down to the river?” Harriet asked, looking through her trunk for clothes.

“Oh yes,” Hermione grinned. “It’s a beautiful day.”

“Oh, that’s cute,” Fern said as Harriet pulled out her jean-short overalls.

“Thanks,” Harriet replied. “I like them.”

She turned her back to the others. She was feeling a blush coming on as she looked at the overalls. There were still a couple of dirt stains here and there, parks of the time Sirius had kidnapped her. That was the last time she had worn them. She set it aside.

“Awwww, what’s wrong with them?” Fern asked, walking over. “Come on, we’ll get you looking super cute.”

Harriet’s cheeks were burning. “No, it’s okay. Not like I have anyone to impress.”

Fern rolled her eyes. “Who said anything about impressing anyone else? Dressing nice is about making _you_ feel good.”

Fern rummaged in her trunk more while Hermione sat on Harriet’s bed.

“Omigaawwww,” Fern groaned taking out one of the pinafore dresses Harriet received from Scott’s cousin, Jess. “This is so ridiculously prep! _I love it!_ ”

“Prep?” Harriet asked.

“Preppy,” Fern explained. “Classy, sophisticated. You know, ‘posh’.”

Hermione smiled. “Like you normally dress,” she clarified for Harriet.

“Ohhhh,” Harriet nodded.

“Hmmmm, well definitely won’t do for a picnic,” Fern said, putting the dress back. “Way too nice to risk getting dirty.”

Fern studied Harriet’s overalls, thinking hard. She then rummaged through the trunk again. “Ah-hah!” she declared, standing and holding up one of Harriet’s old black tee-shirts. “Mind if I try something?”

“Ummmm, okay?”

“You terribly attached to this?” Fern asked.

“No, it’s just an old tee-shirt.”

“Awesome,” Fern said, drawing her wand from her pocket.

She knelt, laying the shirt out flat; smoothing it out before muttering softly. The wand tip began to glow and Fern dragged it across the shirt about halfway down.

“Fern!” Hermione gasped. “You can’t do magic outside school!”

“Oh relax,” Fern replied, unconcerned. “This place is so magic they’d never figure out it was me. It might as well be Rath…”

Fern trailed off. She had almost said Rathlin, though the pain of the memory stopped her. Hermione, on the other hand, was squirming a little. She got antsy enough about breaking rules, let alone actual laws.

“There!” Fern smiled standing, picking up the shirt again. Harriet blinked as she saw the bottom half of the shirt remained on the floor. “Perfect for summer.”

Harriet blinked. “That’s gonna show my belly…”

Fern couldn’t help herself eye-rolling again. “No, it won’t, the overalls will cover that. This just won’t be as hot.”

“Oh, yeah,” Harriet muttered.

She put on the shirt, feeling awkward as she caught sight of herself in the mirror. Somehow, the shirt made Harriet’s tummy even more obvious than when she hadn’t been wearing it. She rubbed a hand over it. _I’ll have to do more running with Mum this year_ , Harriet thought.

She glanced at Hermione and Fern. Hermione’s smile was encouraging, while Fern was holding out the overalls. Harriet took it, putting it on. It did indeed cover Harriet’s tummy, and she felt much more comfortable now.

“There we go,” Fern grinned in approval. “Less goody-goody, more sassy-punk. Love it!”

Harriet looked at herself in the mirror again. She wasn’t entirely sure the look was her.

“Here,” Fern said, moving behind Harriet and pulling her hair back. “You’ve got such lovely lines in your face, definitely worth showing.”

“Fern,” Harriet spluttered as Fern pulled Harriet’s hair back into a ponytail, pulling a hair-tie from her pocket and wrapping it around the ponytail.

“There, now we’re good.”

Harriet shifted awkwardly, studying herself in the mirror. The outfit felt fairly cool, and even looked a little fun. As she turned side to side, it definitely began to grow on her.

“Hmmmm, actually, I think one thing’s missing,” Hermione mused, rubbing her chin.

“What?” Harriet asked.

Hermione hopped off the bed and hurried out of the room. Harriet looked at Fern who simply shrugged. Hermione returned only a minute later with a blue bandanna.

“Isn’t that one of mine?” Fern asked.

“Yes,” Hermione said simply, stepping up to Harriet. “You don’t mind, do you? You have quite a few.”

“Sure,” Fern smiled.

Hermione turned Harriet to face the mirror. She stepped behind Harriet and folded the bandanna in half. She lifted the bandanna over Harriet’s head, bringing it down in front of her face. As Harriet watched, the bandanna paused just in front of Harriet’s mouth. She caught a glimpse of her face in the mirror and her eyes widened. Hermione gave Harriet a kind but knowing smile in the mirror before lowering the bandanna to Harriet’s neck and tying it loosely.

Harriet chewed her lower lip. Hermione hugged her tight around the shoulders from behind. “Just… something to remind you who you are, and that you’re okay.”

Harriet spun and gave Hermione one of the tightest hugs she could ever remember giving.

## * * * *

They were all down by the river, which crossed one corner of the grounds. There was a sidewalk running along the bank with a ledge and intermittent spots to moor boats. They were sitting on the ledge now, their feet dangling in the cool water. The adults were also there, but were sitting back in the shade at a picnic table, chatting quietly, giving the kids their space.

Harriet had Finn around her neck again, though she appreciated that she could put him in the front pocket of the overalls so he didn’t bounce around as much. Fern had been right, she did feel much cooler with the cut-off shirt in the blazing summer sun.

However, it was clear by the look on Daddy’s face that he did not approve of this form of attire. His face screwed up a little and he was about to speak out when Mum elbowed him in the side and gave him a quelling look. He deflated a little, but Harriet could tell he still disapproved. Harriet was sure she was still going to hear about it later.

As they had walked through the village, Harriet noticed a few boys who looked around their age. Harriet wondered how many people were really living there. The group of mostly girls did not go unnoticed by the new boys. That was for sure. As they rounded a corner, Harriet glanced back to notice the boys leaning back in their seats to keep them all in view longer.

Harriet wasn’t thinking about any of that now, however. In fact, Harriet couldn’t remember laughing so hard in her life. They were talking about past adventures. Currently they were on the night that Ronnie, Ginny, Fred, and George had stolen their father’s enchanted Ford Anglia and rescued her from Privet Drive.

“So, there’s my uncle, hanging halfway out the window, my aunt and cousin holding onto his ankles, struggling to keep him from falling into the bushes,” Harriet said, laughing. “I don’t think Uncle Vernon even noticed. He was too busy bellowing after me like a big angry walrus.”

“Oh Merlin, he was! Looked just like one! His big moustache all blowing!” Ronnie exclaimed. “But that wasn’t nearly as funny as the Ton-Tongue Toffee!”

“You were such a little brat,” Harriet said, kicking some water at Ronnie. “You let Fred and George take the whole blame for that!”

Ronnie sniggered triumphantly. “Yeah, I totally did.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Dora giggled, pecking Ronnie’s cheek.

“Ton-Tongue Toffee?” Fern asked.

“A trick-sweet my twin brothers made,” Ronnie explained. “It makes your tongue blow up like a balloon.”

Fern was staring. “Why… would they do that?”

Ronnie shrugged. “Jokes and pranks. That kinda thing.”

“Heh, cool,” Fern smiled, cottoning on. “Like Zonko’s?”

“Yep,” Ronnie smiled. “They’ve started going owl-order again. Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes. Harriet gave them half her Tri-Wizard winnings so they rented a little storage shed in town where they work on their stuff.”

Fern whistled.

“I’ll still never forget Ronnie knocking out that troll,” Scott sniggered.

“Yeah, after Marcus set its sodding club on fire!” Ronnie said, kicking some water over towards him.

“Hey!” Marcus blushed kicking water back. “I’d hurt my nose and couldn’t speak right.”

Harriet lay back on the sidewalk, holding her stomach as she laughed. At the time, she had been terrified, but now the memory of the troll flailing its flaming club around in a panic was positively hysterical. Then its cross-eyed face after its own club bashed it in the face, knocking it unconscious.

“‘Oh, nice one!’ Scott bellowed, his voice a falsetto to mimic Ronnie’s “‘Like it wasn’t dangerous enough!’”

“Stop! Stop!” Hermione cackled.

The group dissolved into more laughter before gradually falling silent. They sat quietly for a moment before Kieran spoke up.

“We have had some good times,” Kieran grinned around at them all. “Some real good times.”

“Like when Dora tested the Polyjuice Potion pretending to be Hermione?” Harriet giggled.

“No!” Fern gasped. “You? Wait, you made Polyjuice Potion?”

Hermione looked sheepish. “Well… it was for a very good reason…”

“And got you turned into a half-cat…” Ronnie said.

“You got turned into a cat?” Fern gasped.

“Half a cat…” Hermione admitted. “Not my proudest moment… I got a cat hair by accident to put in my goblet. I was only saved from being stuck that way by how well I’d made the potion.”

Fern was giving Hermione a shrewd look. “Funny… you left that part out of your version… that whole ‘kitty’ thing you were talking about last night makes a lot more sense, now.”

Hermione sighed. “It wasn’t my proudest moment… I blamed the girl who gave me the hair… thought she’d done it on purpose. Then she got petrified by the basilisk. I felt so rotten… then I got petrified, too…”

Fern put a hand on Hermione’s giving it a comforting squeeze.

“She never forgave me… not even after we were unpetrified. Not that I deserve it… it was just an accident… both the cat hair and the girl’s hair were black.”

Fern lifted her arm putting it around Hermione’s shoulder.

“Hey, I did a damn good job as Hermione though,” Dora said, changing the subject a little.

“Fooled me,” Ronnie shrugged. “I didn’t figure it out till Hermione walked in.”

“I thought _something_ was up, but I didn’t figure out what,” Harriet defended herself.

“Man, that stuff is so weird,” Dora said. “Once was enough for me.”

“Better be,” Ronnie grinned, taking Dora’s hand. “I’d rather you be you than anyone else.”

“Hey,” Hermione gasped. “What’s wrong with being me?”

“Nothing,” Marcus said. He was smiling but his face froze a little as he thought before finally continuing. “Dora’s just a terrible you.”

“Hey!” Dora said tossing a crisp at him.

“Awww, it’s okay,” Ronnie smiled. “Hermione would make a terrible you, too.”

The rest of the group sniggered, repeating the sentiment around that none of them would make very good replacements for the other.

“So, Hermione, I was wondering,” Scott said as the giggling died down. “What about your cousin, Camille? Will she be coming, too?”

“We’ve talked about it,” Hermione replied. “But it was hard to say much with all the security…”

“You were all under security?” Harriet asked. “Why?”

“Well, we’re all known to be your friends,” Scott said. “That… kind of makes us potential targets…”

“Oh…” Harriet said.

Her good humour was gone. Now she felt a mixture of stupidity at having not realized that, and the fear that realization brought her. Were her friends really in that much danger just because they were her friends?

“I can ask Dad,” Dora said reassuringly to Hermione. “Camille was fun.”

“Wonderful,” Hermione beamed.

“I should see if Krystelle can come,” Dora thought aloud, scratching her cheek. “Bet you’d like to see her, too.”

Dora leaned forward to smile at Fern. Fern however did not look very excited about this prospect.

“Oh, yeah…” Fern said forcing a smile back on her face. “That’d be great…”

Harriet furrowed her brow, studying Fern. This was the second time Fern had seemed reluctant to talk about her friends from Rathlin. Wouldn’t Fern want to see her friends again? Want to commiserate with them, at least?

Harriet was distracted by a nearby popping noise. She looked around to see Beauregard had appeared next to Mr Flamel. Dora’s father bent down while the little elf went up on tip-toe to whisper something in Mr Flamel’s ear. Mr Flamel heaved a sigh and rose from his chair. Harriet couldn’t hear him from here, but he was sure Mr Flamel was apologizing to her parents, before he Disapparated.

Dora sighed, too. “Oh no… I bet that’s Adrian Gatsby,” Dora said. “He was trying to create a housekeeping spell. ‘Invisible Servant’ he called it. It would do all the household chores. We had a lot of hopes that it would cut down demand for house-elves…”

“I take it that isn’t happening?” Scott asked.

Dora shook her head. “He’s been here for two years now, but from what I overhear he hasn’t produced any results.”

“Is two years the cut off?” Hermione asked.

Dora grimaced. “Actually, it’s typically one year. I mean we don’t expect a finished product that fast, just some sign of progress. Dad was just really hoping it would work…”

“Bugger,” Marcus muttered. “Well, he gave him an extra year… but I definitely don’t envy him.”

“No… Dad’s going to be down for days about this…”

The group fell silent. Then Ronnie smiled looking around. “Hey, anyone wanna play my new game, Quidball?”

“Quidball?” Scott asked.

“Yeah,” Ronnie beamed. “Came up with it with Ginny this summer. It’s Quidditch and football put together. Ginny wanted to name it Footditch but I stamped on that.”

“How do you play?” Kieran asked with interest.

“Well, there’s no real rules or anything, yet,” Ronnie said. “Basically it was just me on the ground kicking the ball up in the air for Ginny to catch and throw back down to me. Really helps with hand-eye coordination stuff.”

“Sounds cool,” Dora smiled. “Yeah let’s play. There’s a park just past those houses that’s big enough.”

They dried their feet. They put their footwear back on and headed back up to the house. In front of the house, they saw Emma and the twins playing fetch with Max. The game seemed to consist of throwing the ball for Max, who would run after it and grab it in his massive mouth, and then proceed to bowl the thrower over when he brought it back to them.

“Yeah, Max still thinks he’s a puppy,” Dora said, shaking her head but smiling as she waved to the three girls and Max. Emma returned the wave before immediately being squashed by the massive dog.

They headed into the house and up to their rooms to change into appropriate attire and fetch proper equipment. Harriet took Finn off and set him on the bedside table.

“I’ll be back,” Harriet said automatically to the little jar.

Harriet grabbed her _Firebolt_ and was about to walk back out when she stopped. She turned and looked out the glass doors to her balcony. She looked down at her _Firebolt_ , then back at the balcony, and a little grin spread across her face.

## * * * *

“We were going spare!” Ronnie said, both amused and annoyed as they found Harriet on the front steps several minutes later.

“I told you she’d just flown down,” Dora said comforting.

Harriet blushed and shrugged. “I felt like taking the express route…”

Kieran chuckled. “Look at you, being all mischievous.”

Harriet smiled awkwardly, unsure of whether she should feel bad, or proud of herself. She decided on the latter. No one had been hurt, had they?

Harriet had not bothered to change her outfit. The rest had changed into athletic shorts and trainers. Fern was stretching. She stopped, tossed her hair and gave Kieran a little smile that made him go red.

Five minutes later they were at the little park. There were the boys they had seen earlier, throwing around a Fanged Frisbee. As before, they stopped, keeping a close eye on the girls as Harriet, Dora, and Kieran kicked off. Harriet ignored them, ready to start the fun.

Quidball turned out to be quite a laugh. The ones on the ground kicked the ball up for Harriet, Dora, and Kieran to catch. Once caught, they would throw the ball back down, where those on the ground had to try and kick it again before it touched the earth, using only their feet.

“No fair!” Scott laughed as he didn’t move forward fast enough to kick a ball Kieran had tossed down to him. “Your aim’s terrible!”

“Not my fault you’re so slow,” Kieran taunted back, grinning ear to ear.

Harriet, however, had to admit that Scott had a point. Kieran wasn’t as practiced as her or Dora at flying, having only been able to fly for just under a year. Ronnie’s second oldest brother, Charlie, had made him a foot stand for his broom that he could put his bad leg on. While this meant Kieran could take off and land without hurting his leg, had the side effect of making his broom unstable, so he had a hard time taking both his hands off the broom to catch the football.

Harriet noted that not only Kieran was having trouble. After only ten minutes of play, Fern had to bow out. She was breathing heavily as she sat in the shade of a nearby tree. Harriet pondered her. Somehow, seeing how winded Fern was now, Harriet found herself appreciating just how thin Fern was, still. She had certainly put on weight since Harriet first met her a year ago, but she was still less than healthy looking. Her knees were still almost wider than her thighs.

As they played, Kieran was having a harder and harder time keeping his focus. He kept missing the football completely. Harriet saw he was too busy stealing glances at Fern. Worry was written all over his face.

Hermione was getting the same concern. To Harriet’s surprise, instead of going over to her friend, Hermione gave Kieran a significant look and jerked her head towards Fern. Kieran went red and swallowed, but nodded and flew down to Fern. Everyone watched as he landed beside her.

Harriet was impressed at Kieran’s landing, though he bungled the dismount a little. He was apparently so distracted he forgot to lock the stand down, and so when he tried to swing his left leg up and off the broom, the stand collapsed, pulling the broom, and so Kieran, down with it.

Scott looked like he was about to panic as he started to run over but he stopped after a few steps. Harriet felt her heart clench and she began to dive, rocketing down on the scene. Fern looked equally panicked as she tried to roll Kieran over, checking him. It was as Kieran rolled onto his back that Harriet saw why Scott had stopped. He was laughing. Full-throated, jovial, laughing.

Fern’s face was indignant and she gave his shoulder a little shove.

“You scared me!” Fern said, turning bright red as Kieran kept laughing.

“Sorry!” Kieran laughed, propping himself up on his elbows, waving to the rest of them. “It was my mistake, my mistake!”

Fern it seemed to get over her indignation rather quickly as Kieran sat up next to her. They scooted over to the tree, leaning back against it and talking. Harriet was reluctant, but did force herself to move away.

She did keep studying Kieran and Fern as she flew back up over the field. Kieran and Fern were chatting quietly. Fern was frowning, but talking. Kieran’s expression was gentle, reminding Harriet rather strongly of Sebastian, minus the cat-ness.

Harriet continued watching as Fern finally began to smile, though she was forcibly distracted by the football Ronnie kicked skimming the top of her head, and decided to pay better attention to the game.

## * * * *

As the sun set, everyone was starting to settle down. Harriet decided to take advantage of the relaxed atmosphere and finally do some exploring of the house. She and her friends were down hanging out in one of the lounges on the second floor. They were all talking about sports at Hogwarts with Fern. Hermione was still hoping to get lacrosse added, while Kieran was explaining Quidditch.

Harriet excused herself, claiming she needed to use the bathroom. However, instead of heading to the right towards the bathroom once she’d shut the door, she headed left. She felt a tiny sense of freedom, walking along by herself. She studied the many clocks.

The hair on the back of her neck prickled. The fact all of them were ticking in such perfect unison was a little unsettling now that she was all alone. It wasn’t entirely a bad feeling. Her sense of adventure was rising. There was a mystery to these clocks. The answer might just be magic, but she still wanted to know.

They sold their clocks and watches to muggles. That meant the answer couldn’t entirely be magic. There were laws against that, weren’t there? That was Mr Weasley’s entire job at the Ministry of Magic. He would have technically had to arrest himself over his flying Ford Anglia.

There was also the mystery of the Flamel house elves. She wanted to know more about Castillon in particular. There was so much to know, and she was sure that Castillon wouldn’t just give up any information freely. Or maybe she just hoped he wouldn’t, because that would make snooping more necessary.

Something else made Harriet pause and rub her chin in thought. The Flamels were most famous for gold, yet aside from the clocks and the gate at the entrance, there was barely any gold anywhere in the house. Dora had said Nicolas Flamel himself had called the gold-making properties of the Philosopher’s Stone an ‘unfortunate accident.’ She figured that was why.

“Ah, a warm good afternoon to you dearest lady.”

The voice made her jump. It was a smooth, casual, male voice. Harriet looked around. She was alone in the corridor.

“Over here,” the voice chuckled.

Harriet looked to her left and saw a portrait of a young, bearded man, dressed much like Sir Nicolas, the Gryffindor house-ghost. His hair was long but receding, and there was a sharp twinkle in his painted eyes.

“Oh, hello,” Harriet smiled. “Who are you?”

The man chuckled softly. “Does not my frame give me away?”

Harriet looked down at the bottom of the frame. Sure enough, there was a tiny polished golden placard that read:

 

_William Shakespeare_

Harriet gasped. “You’re William Shakespeare?”

He chuckled softly. “Yes… the one and only. Well… a convincing facsimile at any rate.”

“Wow… you were a wizard?”

Shakespeare smiled and shook his head. “Oh no, no, dear lady. But I did live before wizard kind went underground.”

“Oh, okay… what’s your portrait doing here?”

“Why, I’m one of the most famous guests of Avalon-Sur-Oise,” Shakespeare replied, gesturing to the wall opposite Harriet. “I stayed here when writing _MacBeth_.”

“Seriously?” Harriet asked, turning to study the wall Shakespeare had indicated. Sure enough, there was a massive plaque, covered in names.

“Seriously,” Shakespeare chuckled.

Harriet didn’t recognize most of the names. However, some certainly did stand out.

“There’s you,” Harriet said, pointing out Shakespeare’s name. “And Leonardo Da Vinci?”

“Yes, he was well before my time, alas.”

Harriet kept studying the wall. Isaac Newton’s name was there, as was a more magical sounding name Harriet recognized.

“Paracelsus?” Harriet asked. “I have a Chocolate Frog Card of him.”

“I am certain he would be most honoured by that fact, should he be made aware,” Shakespeare chortled. “Though I always preferred his second name of Phillipus Aureolus Theophrastus Bombastus von Hohenheim.”

Harriet giggled. “That is a lot more fun to say.”

“A deeply gifted alchemist, physician, and surgeon. I found his work on—I believe the term is now psychotherapy—studying the mind, and what is now known as the subconscious, most illuminating and helpful in writing _MacBeth_.”

“Is that why you came here?” Harriet asked.

“A portion of it,” Shakespeare smiled. “I also wanted to study magic. I ended up hiring three actual crones for the opening show. Ah, dear old King James… he fainted at the sight of them.”

Harriet giggled. “Really?”

“Ahhhh, it was magnificent,” Shakespeare sighed, relishing the memory.

Harriet studied him thoughtfully.

“You speak really good modern English.”

“I speak modern English very well, you mean,” Shakespeare corrected with a wink.

“Yeah, that.”

Shakespeare laughed again. “I have had well over three and a half centuries to learn.”

“Good point,” Harriet admitted.

“As a point of fact, I was the one who taught English to dear Castillon, both in life and portraiture.”

Harriet’s eyes widened. At last, someone she could ask about Castillon without seeming suspicious.

“You did?”

“I did,” Shakespeare confirmed. “He was a quick study, which was most astonishing to me, given his age.”

“His age?”

“Yes, I daresay that elf has not aged a day since I first met him,” Shakespeare’s face fell slightly. “Alas, since the real me met him, I should say.”

“Sorry,” Harriet said. “Didn’t mean to bring up painful thoughts…”

“You are quite alright, my dear lady,” Shakespeare waved a dismissive hand. “Tis a lonely life, being a painting.”

“How do you all work?” Harriet asked. She sat on the floor in front of him, looking up at Shakespeare curiously. “Paintings, I mean. We haven’t studied them at school, yet.”

“Oh, I could never pretend to understand it,” Shakespeare said. “Magic and all that. I did my best to get the strongest grasp that I could, but being mere Muggle I found it quite the challenge.”

Harriet blushed. “I… I have a Muggle I fancy…”

Shakespeare smiled delightedly. “You don’t say? Marvelous. What a splendid image… Harriet Potter, a magical champion, falling for Muggle… The feathers that will ruffle…”

Harriet grimaced. “He… I’ve sort of—wait, you know who I am?”

Shakespeare chuckled softly again. “But of course. Your arrival has had this house aflutter in ways I’d not remembered since my corporeal life.”

Harriet blushed a little. “Oh, okay… well… regarding Finn… I lost him.”

Worry washed over Shakespeare’s face. “Lost him?”

“Literally,” Harriet said, pulling the jar of memories from her front pocket. “This… these are his memories.”

Shakespeare’s expression fell further. “Oh dear… I’m so sorry, dear lady…”

“He’s alive… I hope,” Harriet said. “The Ministry wiped his memories. He attended Rathlin—”

“Rathlin!” Shakespeare exclaimed. “My old Alma Mater!”

“You went to Rathlin?” Harriet gasped.

“Oh yes,” Shakespeare said, looking happier now. “Twas the simpler days…”

“Heh, that’d be nice.”

“Not at all,” Shakespeare admitted. “Far too many people conflate simplicity with superiority. I’d much prefer the murkier waters of today.”

“How? There’s a war going on in America that’s killing hordes of people… Lord Voldemort’s back…”

“Ahhh yes those are the big, dazzling things. Those always get the most notice. Tis the little things… the horrors of the everyday folk that are most overlooked. Today, the average soul in a country such as this can expect to live into their eighties. Never shall they have to worry about where their next meal will come from, or when. Never shall they experience the worry of being murdered for their chickens. In my day, one had brigands to contend with just trying to travel from town to town. Crossing oceans was a harrowing hell. Disease stalked the land, snuffing the lives of entire villages in mere fortnights. I, for instance, only lived to be fifty-two. My own damn-fool self to blame, of course.”

“R-really?” Harriet asked. She didn’t know what to say to this. Sir Nicolas the ghost had said ghosts didn’t like to talk about their deaths. She imagined portraits were much the same.

“Yes… I had a merry gathering with my old friends: Michael Drayton and Ben Jonson. We drank the night away in celebration which led us into the grounds. I happened to stumble into a pond, where I contracted a fever. I was not long for the world thereafter.”

“I’m sorry…”

“Not at all, dear lady. Trouble yourself not for me. As I stated, twas my own fault. The blame lies completely with myself.”

Harriet fished around for a happier subject. She was distracted by Dora’s voice.

“There you are,” Dora said walking up. “We were looking for you. Hello, Bill!”

“A hearty good afternoon to you, Miss Dora!” Shakespeare smiled. “I was just regaling Miss Harriet here with stories of yesteryear.”

Dora rolled her eyes. “Still talking like that.”

Shakespeare chuckled. “English is my mother-tongue. Tis a work of art, and I shall ever treat it as such.”

“A work of art?” Harriet asked, sceptically.

“Precisely, dear lady. The rules only last till they’re inconvenient, where they are discarded. So it is with all good art.”

Dora giggled turning back to Harriet. “Anyway, dinner’s almost ready.”

“Cool,” Harriet replied as Dora helped her to her feet. She gave Shakespeare a smile and wave. “Talk to you later, Mr Shakespeare.”

The kindly man smiled leaning back in his chair. “Please, call me Bill.”

## * * * *

Harriet lay alone in bed that night. Hedwig had flown off, hunting. She tossed and turned. The bed was comfortable, the potion had calmed her, yet Harriet’s mind would not shut off.

She was thinking more about Castillon. The elf was already old back when William Shakespeare had been alive. How long did house elves live? Kreacher had seemed old compared to Dobby and Winky, but he was positively youthful compared to Castillon. Dora had said that Castillon had been given Elixer of Life, too. But what had he seen? What was his life like so long ago?

Harriet sat up. She put on her glasses and leaned over to look at the clock. It was just after midnight. Harriet sniffed and flopped back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Why was this bothering her so? Aside from the fact she didn’t like the idea of leaving mysteries unsolved.

Harriet swung her legs out of bed. Daddy said Harriet could go anywhere in the house she wanted, hadn’t he? He hadn’t said she couldn’t do it at night when she was less likely to be interrupted.

She crept to the door and slowly cracked it open. She peeked out into the hallway, glancing around. She was just about to step out when she heard another door open. Harriet pulled her door to just a crack, peeking one eye out.

Quietly, she saw the door to the boys’ room open and Marcus slowly began creeping out. At the same time, the door to Hermione and Fern’s room opened. Hermione slowly emerged. They glanced side to side, checking that the coast was clear. Harriet clamped a hand over her mouth as she watched them sneak across the hall to each other.

They had just about reached each other when there was a popping noise, followed by a cacophony of angry, squeaky French shouts. Beauregard had Apparated right between them, and was telling both off in loud French. Harriet didn’t understand a word, and she was sure neither Hermione nor Marcus did, either, but Beauregard’s message was clear. Both darted back into their rooms at top speed. Beauregard kept glaring back and forth between the doors, before he slowly began moving away, watching back over his shoulder.

Harriet pursed her lips. If Beauregard was now on duty, that would make sneaking through the house difficult. He must have been watching and waiting.

Harriet closed her door, thinking. How was she going to do this? She supposed she could use her invisibility cloak, but Beauregard would still see her door open and come investigating. That might rouse Daddy, who would know what Harriet was up to.

The realization struck Harriet in an instant: her broom. She hurried to her trunk, pulling out her invisibility cloak. She tucked it under her arm and crept onto her balcony. She looked left and right to the neighbouring balconies. The lights were off in the rooms. Everyone seemed to be asleep.

Harriet took her _Firebolt_ and swung her leg over it. She kept her cloak tucked under her arm and kicked off. She flew down towards the front door of the house. To her consternation, she saw two Aurors standing guard there. She managed to duck out of sight, hovering around a corner and thinking.

The first-floor balcony! That would be it! She turned and flew around the back of the house instead. She came to the balcony, landing on it lightly. Not only were the doors unlocked, they were wide open. Harriet grinned to herself at her own cleverness as she propped up her broom in a safe corner, and slipped on the cloak.

Satisfied in her secrecy, Harriet padded into the hallway. The floor was cool and smooth under her bare-feet as she padded along. She felt even more excited at the realization she would be able to talk to Bill without interruptions. However, she found herself disappointed. Bill wasn’t in his portrait. She wondered if he was visiting friends in another painting. She should have asked him if he had any other paintings he frequented.

Harriet scratched her head, thinking. Where else could she look? She kept walking down the corridor. Room after room she came to, but none seemed to be all that interesting. Mostly they were vacant conference rooms or lounges.

Unsatisfied with this floor, Harriet descended further. As she snuck down the spiralling staircase to the ground floor, Harriet felt a bit enchanted. Sneaking through Avalon wasn’t quite like Hogwarts. Hogwarts was dark and shadowy, making it difficult to see at night. Avalon was bright and open. All the windows and the white marble allowed the simple moonlight to illuminate the building as though daytime.

Harriet was halfway down the staircase when she finally heard voices. She froze and listened. They didn’t seem to be getting any closer or moving away. She started creeping closer, her mind on high alert.

She reached the ground floor. She saw a partially open door with a little light coming from it. That had to be where the voices were coming from. Harriet crept closer when she recognized the voice of Mr Flamel.

“I have given him double ze time to give me _some_ results,” Mr Flamel said. He sounded dismal.

“I know, darling, I know,” Mrs Flamel replied. “You’re not doing yourself any favours moping about like this. Come back to bed and get some sleep. You’ll feel better about it in the morning.”

“I just do not understand,” Mr Flamel continued. “We already have spells to make a broom sweep by itself, knives to automatically dice food… how is it so impossible to string zem together! He comes to me once a month claiming to be on to something, and always ze demonstration is a disaster.”

Silence fell. Harriet started backing away.

“We can give him one more month…” Mrs Flamel said.

“Yes, one more month…”

“You’re so much like Nicolas,” Mrs Flamel said, chuckling softly.

Mr Flamel finally gave a soft laugh and sighed. “You are right, my love. Per’aps I am… too much. Yes… sleep is best. You are right as always.”

Harriet heard footsteps. She ducked into a side room, but the Flamels instead headed the opposite direction. She peeked back out, watching them. She furrowed her brow in thought. Mr Gatsby’s experiments weren’t working? That sounded like a mystery, too.

Harriet sighed. Was she being silly? Was she overthinking this? Was she looking for mysteries where none existed? Maybe she was just trying to take her mind off her troubles.

Harriet crept back into the hallway. She did feel good about sneaking out. Daddy wouldn’t know. She felt in control, now. She was doing something for herself.

She decided if nothing else, she could at least take the time to walk. It would tire her so she could sleep, at least. She was padding along quietly in her bare feet when a noise ahead of her made her stop. Despite being invisible, she ducked into another door, peeking out in the direction of the sound.

She recognized the little click of Castillon’s cane. She stuck her head out further. Where was he? Could he turn invisible too? If so, why would he be walking around invisible in his own house at night?

Harriet slowly stepped out into the hallway again. She looked back and forth. The clicking had stopped, but she was totally alone.

“The house’s acoustics are something else, are they not?”

Harriet shrieked. The voice had come from right behind her. She spun around, finding the corridor still empty. Was it another painting? A tug on her cloak made her look down. The little, aged elf Castillon was standing right at her feet, looking up in the general vicinity of her face, a twinkle in his aged eyes.

“How did you see me?” Harriet asked.

The little elf chuckled and tapped Harriet’s foot with his cane. “You appear to be getting a little too tall for this… either that or my stature gives me a better perspective.”

Harriet blushed, feeling stupid as she took off her cloak.

“You would have also been better served in wearing slippers,” Castillon pointed out. He turned and pointed his cane back the way Harriet had come. “It was a simple matter, following the little footprints on the polished marble floor. They showed up well in the moonlight.”

Harriet felt even more stupid. How had she not thought of that?

“Please forgive my speech, William has rubbed off on me over the years.”

“It’s okay,” Harriet said. “I met him today… I like him.”

“So he said. It’s hard to resist the Bard, yes,” Castillon chuckled.

Harriet thought. “I’ve… been wanting to talk to you…”

“To me?” Castillon asked. “Whatever for?”

Harriet thought. Now she was finally here, alone, with Castillon, she found her mind had shut down. She supposed his surprising her hadn’t helped.

“Do you mind if we sit?”

“Oh, absolutely,” Harriet said quickly.

“Much obliged, to you,” Castillon said.

He snapped his fingers, and at once two chairs appeared, one Harriet’s size, and one Castillon’s size. They were comfy reclining armchairs. Castillon sat, moaning and pulling the handle, propping up the footrest.

Harriet sat as well. The chair was very comfortable, but she kept sitting upright.

“Well, now we’re more relaxed, might _I_ enquire as to your eavesdropping and the lord and lady of the house?”

Harriet shrank a little. “I didn’t really mean to… at least it’s not why I snuck out. I just feel like there’s so much to know about this place… but everywhere I go there’s people around.”

Castillon chortled. “Yes… Dora has spoken at length of your habit. You possess a curiosity for sure… as well as a certain disrespect for authority.”

“I… guess I do?”

Castillon smiled. “A dangerous combination,” he said. Harriet wasn’t sure if that was praise or not.

“I want to know more about you and Nicolas, too,” Harriet said. “He wrote me a letter once, just before he and Perenelle…”

Castillon sighed. “Ah… I see… yes, Nicolas was delighted to hear you had befriended Dora. She was very upset to have to go to Hogwarts, rather than Beauxbatons. All of her childhood friends, with the exception of Miss Gandy, went there.”

Harriet smiled a little. “That’s funny… she might have ended up being friends with Hermione’s cousin, Camille then.”

“The magical world is not the largest one, no,” Castillon observed. “Particularly in Britain.”

Harriet kept giving Castillon quizzical looks.

“Yes?”

“You’re just so different from all the house-elves I’ve ever met,” Harriet replied. “I like it, but it does feel strange.”

“Yes, I do tend to upset Charles’ more upper-class visitors, particularly from Britain.”

“I bet my friend Hermione would really like to speak to you,” Harriet said. “She started a club at our school—”

“The Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare,” Castillon chortled. “Yes, I’m aware of it, via Dora, of course.”

“Right… well… they say you’re older than house-elf enslavement… I’m sure she’d like to hear how that came about? It would help her understand. In fact… I’d like to understand more, myself. I’ve only ever met one elf who didn’t like being enslaved.”

Harriet suddenly caught herself. “Sorry… should I call it something else?”

“The proper word is always the best word,” Castillon replied. “About your elf-friend?”

“His name’s Dobby. He used to work for the Malfoys.”

Castillon sniffed angrily. “Ah, yes… I’m aware of them. If any house was worthy of wearing the snake of Hogwarts’ Slytherins, it would be the Malfoys…”

“Wow, you _do_ know them.”

Castillon sniffed again. “They were once well placed in high society. Quite cosy in Queen Elizabeth’s court, they were. Then the wizards went underground. They kept their place in magical society by buying into the resentment. They’ve never truly believed in any cause. They’ve always just drifted in the wind of public opinion.”

Harriet didn’t say anything. This wasn’t really what she wanted to talk about.

She changed the subject. “So, if you don’t mind my asking, how old are you?”

Castillon cocked an eyebrow at her. “What brings on that question?”

“Well, Bill said you were already old when he met you.”

“That is correct. But my life is my life, Harriet Potter.”

“I just—well—you just know so much. What was Nicolas like? I received a letter from him, just before he… yeah…”

“Nicolas was…” Castillon sighed. “Nicolas was my best friend.”

The old elf’s eyes were over bright now. Harriet was about to change the subject but Castillon continued.

“I should like to show you something, Harriet Potter.”

“Oh…?”

Castillon lowered the foot rest and rose from the chair. Harriet stood, following the little elf. He led her towards the staircase back the way she had come, and stopped at the bottom of the staircase to the first floor. He turned from there and took five careful steps towards the middle of the room. He held his cane straight up, narrowed his eyes and drove the cane downwards.

At once, the stone slab slid aside, revealing itself to be a trapdoor, not a slab at all. There was a little staircase leading down. Harriet leaned over to look and her mouth fell open.

The room was positively glowing. It was lit with candles, but there was so much gold in the room that it shone brightly. There were little work-benches everywhere, covered in tiny little gears and springs and other gizmos. Hordes of partially completed clocks hung on the walls.

Castillon descended the stairs, beckoning for Harriet to follow him. She made her way down the tiny staircase as best she could. The room was small but she was able to stand without stooping. She was more concerned with knocking into any of the little shelves and tables, damaging any of the beautiful work.

“You make the clocks, and watches, don’t you? You make all of this? Yourself?”

Castillon smiled softly. “That is correct. Well spotted.”

Harriet ignored the tease, looking around. Castillon’s craftsmanship was exquisite. She bent to look at a few pieces of the decorative materials. They were formed into delicate leaves, and so thin they even quivered slightly from Harriet’s breath.

“You make these with magic? Is that the secret?”

Castillon’s lips twitched. “Ah, life is a bit more interesting with a few secrets, isn’t it?”

Harriet shrugged. “Maybe? I always found the fun to be solving them.”

Castillon said nothing more, but continued to smile. Harriet kept watching him out of the corner of her eye. “How long have you been making these?”

“I started many a year ago,” Castillon replied, leaning heavily on his cane. “About the time humans began making them. I found them fascinating, and a worthy challenge. It was Charles who decided I should finally get some recognition for them.”

“But you don’t get recognition for them,” Harriet said. “The Flamel family doesn’t even get recognition for them…”

“I’m content enough that people are satisfied with my work, Harriet Potter,” Castillon replied. “And Charles and Jessica are content with the money that helps keep Avalon-Sur-Oise in working order.”

“But you’re a free elf?”

Castillon raised his fluffy-white eyebrows. “You believe I do so for free? You believe I could not walk out these doors and into the night should I choose?”

“No, I just…”

“I make my fair share from my work, Harriet Potter. Yes, I work for the Flamels, but I am not bound to them. At least not in that sense. My connection is born of honour, and of love. Mostly, it was an ever-running hope that at some point, someone like Charles would come along, worthy again of the name.”

Harriet nodded. “He does seem to love it here.”

“Oh yes, he does.” Castillon shifted a little, thinking.

Harriet returned her attention to the workshop once more.

“Do Snickers and Beauregard help you?”

“They serve the family, not myself,” Castillon replied.

“I see…”

Castillon walked across the room. Harriet watched him as he went. She blinked as she noticed something glinting. It stood out as silvery-white, not gold. It was a little vial, set in a holder. As Harriet watched, Castillon reached up and took the vial, slipping it into his vest pocket. Harriet narrowed her eyes. That vial was important, and she had more than a suspicion as to what was inside.

Castillon paused and opened a little safe. He set the vial inside it and shut the safe again. He snapped his fingers and with a sizzling sound, rather than locking, the safe sealed itself shut, the line of the door completely vanishing.

“I thank you for your time, Harriet Potter. But it might be wise for you to return to bed. According to Beauregard, your father checked on you at least three times the night before; after Dora and the other girls left.”

Harriet grimaced. “Oh, yeah that might be a good idea… sorry.”

“Not at all, Harriet Potter. A pleasure to chat. A pleasure to see someone so inquisitive.”

Harriet climbed back out. She slid her cloak back on, and hurried back to the balcony with her broom. This time she did her best to walk on the rugs and hop over the bare marble floor between them. She kicked off and flew around the back of the house again to her balcony.

Harriet crept back into her room. She was just about to her bed when the door to her room cracked open.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Daddy said.

“Yeah,” Harriet said. “Just had to use the bathroom.”

“Okay,” Daddy replied. He seemed deeply embarrassed at being caught checking up on her. “Well, I won’t keep you up. I’m just…”

Harriet walked over to him and hugged him tight. “Thanks, Daddy. I appreciate it, but I’m okay.”

“Okay…” Daddy muttered, hugging her back. “Sebastian visits tomorrow. So there’s that to look forward to.”

“Oh, cool!”

Daddy smiled wider and bent down kissing the top of Harriet’s head.

“In that case, I have even better news. You’ll finally meet your new grandparents tomorrow, too.”

Harriet blinked. “New grandparents?”

Daddy chuckled. “Aurora’s parents, sweetie. They’ll be coming to stay too, tomorrow, to help with planning the wedding.”

Harriet’s eyes widened. She’d forgotten about the wedding!

“The wedding? When will it be?”

Daddy laughed. “It’ll be in August. And here.”

Harriet hugged Daddy tighter. It was coming so soon. They would be married. Then they could adopt her. She would have actual parents. Legal, complete parents. A real family.

“Sleep well, sweetie. I promise I’ll stop being so nosy and worrying.”

“Okay, Daddy.”

As always when Harriet called him that, Daddy froze up a little. He always looked happy, as though the happiness of being called that froze his brain. His smile grew and he ruffled her hair gently, stepping back so Harriet could shut her door again.

Harriet had a little skip in her step as she climbed back into bed. She was going to have grandparents. She was going to meet them tomorrow.

Harriet looked over at Finn on her bedside table. She picked him up and pulled him over.

“You hear that, Finn? I’m going to have a family… a real family. I’ve never had that before. You lost yours, too. At least you had Colm, and Professor Howe…”

Harriet played a little with his harness. She twirled it slightly around her finger when all at once, mischief lit in Harriet’s mind. She hurried over to her laundry basket and pulled up the bandanna out. She hopped back into her bed, bouncing a little and giggling. She very quickly tied it over her mouth. It wouldn’t really keep her quiet, but the feeling was enough.

She giggled a little as she slowly around the harness around her wrists. She could slip them out again in an instant, but again it was about the feel more than the reality.

“Hehe, oh no, the rapscallion’s got me,” Harriet giggled into the bandanna as she set Finn on the pillow beside her.

She closed her eyes, snuggling up happily under the covers. She was just about to drift off when her eyes snapped open. She sat bolt upright. For all the time they’d talked, Castillon had barely answered any question Harriet asked. He’d distracted her and diverted the conversation anytime anything became too personal about him or Nicolas came up.

She lay back on her pillow, frowning. The little sneak. He’d even shown her his shop to distract her. She’d asked him about Nicolas and he said nothing more than Nicolas was his best friend and took her to his shop. Harriet had been told how close he and Nicolas were already.

_Well, he’s clever_ , Harriet thought, _but I have a friend who’s clever too, and good luck avoiding her when I suggest she starts asking you questions_.

Harriet’s grin returned as she snuggled up more under the soft, warm duvet, and finally drifted off.


	8. Arrivals and Answers

“It is my observations that matters which are kept from us, even if our safety benefits from our lack of knowledge, tend to dredge up more questions than answers. In these cases, it is best to take action one step at a time, instead of charging forward without the larger scope in mind.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

_Harriet was floating. It was a blissful, peaceful feeling. The air was absolutely still around her. There was not a single sound. Not even her own breathing, or the thumping of her heart._

_She opened her eyes. She was looking at the ceiling. At least she thought she was. It was dark, and looked to be made of jet black stone. The faint reflections of flickering candles sliding past her told her she was moving. And yet, Harriet did not feel as though she was moving. It felt more as though the world was moving past her while she remained in place._

_Harriet looked towards her feet. She was lying on her back, the world moving past her. She gasped as she recognized her location. She was down in the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, where Sirius’ trial had been held. However, as she watched, she slid right past the entrance to that corridor, and instead continued towards the Department of Mysteries. Or was the Department of Mysteries approaching her? It was a confusing sensation._

_A big, black door was at the end of the corridor. She could only tell it was a door by the polished silver handle glinting in the dim candles. Ever closer it came. As she watched, a strange feeling came over Harriet. She wanted to get through that door. She had to get through that door. Everything she ever wanted was through that door. The door was a mystery, and it had to be solved._

Pain. A savage pain tore through Harriet’s forehead. She cried out, sitting up, trying to put her hands to her forehead. She tugged them out of the harness, flopping back on the bed, pressing her hands to her scar.

Lord Voldemort was angry. He was raging. Someone had interrupted him. Harriet tugged the bandanna up and off her head, breathing heavily. She knew that. She knew Lord Voldemort was angry. How did she know that?

The door opened. Daddy and Mum hurried inside.

“Harriet?” Daddy asked, putting his hands on her shoulders. “What happened? What’s wrong?”

Harriet lowered her hands from her head. The pain was beginning to diminish. Harriet looked up at Daddy.

He shook her, urgently. “What’s wrong?” he insisted.

“Voldemort,” Harriet slurred. “He’s in the Department of Mysteries. He was… or… dunno…”

Daddy and Mum exchanged dark looks.

“Had a dream… like the ones I had last year,” Harriet continued. “I was floating down towards the Department of Mysteries… then my scar hurt.”

Daddy grimaced, running a hand through his hair.

“I don’t think we can put it off any longer…” Daddy said. “We have to send for Severus.”

“Yes,” Mum agreed reluctantly.

“I’ll be starting my Occlumency?”

“Yes, sweetie,” Daddy said. “It’ll make these dreams go away… it’s the only thing that might.”

“Might?” Harriet asked.

Daddy and Mum exchanged another dark look.

“What about Voldemort? Shouldn’t someone be letting the Ministry know? Voldemort’s in the Ministry!”

“Harriet, sweetie,” Mum said softly, calming. “We have someone watching the entrance to the Department of Mysteries at all times…”

“Yeah, think it’s Sturgis on duty tonight,” Daddy said. “If Voldemort was there, we’d know.”

Harriet lay back on the bed. It had to have been Lord Voldemort. How else would her scar have hurt? How would she have known he was angry? How would she know he’d been interrupted? Wait, how could he have been interrupted if he was actually inside the Ministry?

“There’s a lot of this we don’t understand, Harriet,” Daddy said. “We’re not going to pretend otherwise… we’re all doing our best to get to the bottom of it all.”

“Is everything okay?”

It was Hermione. She and Fern were standing in the doorway. Harriet supposed they must have heard her through the wall. She must have cried out louder than she thought.

“Yes, dears,” Mum said.

Daddy rose. “I’ll go send a message to headquarters.”

“Okay, love.”

Daddy kissed Harriet’s forehead before hurrying from the room. Hermione and Fern stepped aside for him. Both turned worried looks back on Harriet and Mum.

“It’s alright, girls,” Mum insisted gently. “Go back to sleep.”

Reluctantly, Hermione and Fern moved out of sight. Mum picked Finn up off the pillow and put him in Harriet’s hands. “Here, here’s your Finn, dear.”

Harriet felt her cheeks warm as she hugged him close. Mum lay next to Harriet, resting her head where Finn was, holding Harriet close. Harriet snuggled up, starting to feel relaxed once more. She looked up at Mum.

“Mum…?”

“Yes, dear?”

“Would you hum that song for me again…? From when I hurt my hand?”

Mum gently kissed her forehead.

“Of course, dear.”

## * * * *

Harriet didn’t leave her room that morning. She wanted to be alone. Hedwig returned from her night’s hunting and at once detected Harriet’s mood. It was almost lunch-time, and Harriet was still sitting on the floor leaning back against her bed. Hedwig was still sitting on the bed behind her, preening her hair.

Even if she wanted to be alone, Harriet appreciated the gesture. It was oddly therapeutic, feeling Hedwig’s beak nimbly nibbling through her hair, moving them all into place. The twins had looked in on Harriet an hour or so before, but quickly got the message that Harriet wanted to be alone. She wasn’t even thinking about Castillon. She remembered, but she couldn’t bring herself to really care.

What was Voldemort up to in the Department of Mysteries? What did he want there? It must have been important, whatever it was.

Her session with Sebastian had been cancelled. Professor Snape was going to come and finally teach her Occlumency, but they had to wait for him to come up with a valid excuse for traveling, so it wasn’t going to be for another couple of days to a week.

A knock on the door made Harriet look around. It was Fern, leaning her head in.

“Hey, you,” Fern said gently. “Mione said I should look in on you.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. “Really? Didn’t want to check herself?” Harriet grimaced and looked away, ashamed at herself for the bitterness in her voice.

“She thinks I should start getting to know everyone better on my own,” Fern replied, her voice cool.

“Sorry,” Harriet muttered. “Just…”

“Sick of dealing with being different and no one really understanding you?”

Harriet snorted. “Yeah, pretty much.”

Fern walked over and sat next to Harriet. “I can’t pretend like I get exactly what you’re going through, but I know a bit about being misunderstood and different,” Fern said.

Harriet glanced sideways at Fern. “I bet… having to spend your whole life pretending to be someone else…”

Fern rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I grew up pretending to be someone else and wanting to be myself… and I bet you always want to be someone else…”

“I’ll say…” Harriet muttered.

Fern bumped Harriet’s shoulder. “Hey, there’s a lot to be said for being yourself.”

“A weirdo who can see inside Lord Voldmort’s—” Fern flinched “—head…”

Fern stared. “Is that what happened last night?”

Harriet sighed. “I think so. It happened a few times last year.”

“Is it because of that scar?” Fern asked.

Harriet shrugged. “I guess so. No one’s ever really explained it to me. Not in any detail. Just that it formed a connection between him and me.”

Fern nodded slowly and they resumed looking out the big glass doors onto Harriet’s balcony.

“So, know what you’re going to wear for your grandparents getting here?”

Harriet’s stomach clenched. In the aftermath of the dream she had completely forgotten about that.

“Dunno,” Harriet said, looking down at herself.

She was just wearing another old tee-shirt and some athletic shorts. It was all the care she could give to her appearance at the moment. She supposed she should be proud of herself that she had at least worked up the effort to get dressed at all.

“Come on, we’ll get you looking fantastic,” Fern smiled, getting to her feet. “You’ll feel a whole lot better.”

Harriet sincerely doubted this, but she didn’t have the wherewithal at that moment to put up much of a protest. Fern smiled confidently down at Harriet and held out a hand. Harriet took it, letting Fern pull her to her feet.

Fern shook her head looking at Harriet’s trunk. “You still haven’t unpacked?”

Harriet gave a noncommittal shrug.

“Okay,” Fern laughed. “We’ll get you unpacked. You’ll feel better once you feel lived in here.”

Harriet just stood back, watching as Fern went through her trunk, putting all Harriet’s clothing into her wardrobe. Harriet felt a little flattered at the way Fern complimented everything Harriet owned.

“You like the schoolgirl-chic look, don’t you?” Fern asked.

“What?”

Fern smiled. “You have a lot of kneesocks.”

Harriet shifted uncomfortably. “I… like them… I don’t know why, they remind me of being at Hogwarts when I’m away, I guess…”

Fern smiled. “It’s cool; they’re really fashionable right now.”

Harriet blinked. “Really?”

“Ohhhh yeah,” Fern laughed. “I have a bunch, too. Hmmm…”

“What…?” Harriet was feeling apprehensive at the way Fern mused, looking over her wardrobe. Yesterday, Fern had the same look when she cut one of Harriet’s tees into a belly shirt and Daddy had not been too happy about it.

“I’ll be right back, I’ve just thought of the cutest outfit.”

Harriet blinked as Fern hurried from the room. Harriet stood, speechless, until Fern returned. She had a pair of long white socks, a pair of black Mary-Janes with thick heels, a thin white camisole, and a small hand-bag.

“Here,” Fern grinned. “We’re going to get you looking amazing.”

Harriet flushed. “Really, it’s okay…”

Fern sighed. “Oh, come on… it’s just wearing nice clothes. Totally not like yesterday. Yesterday was about being fun and free. Today’s about looking nice and making a good impression. Clothes are expression. They’re like plumage for birds.”

_Dove…_

“Plumage you can change at will to express yourself. Want to tell people to leave you alone at a glance? Bam! Wanna turn someone’s head? Done. Here,” Fern said, taking out the pinafore dress that Daddy had made for Harriet the day of Sirius’ exoneration.

She laid it out on the bed next to the white socks and the shoes, nodding in approval. Harriet furrowed her brow pointing to the shoes.

“Will those even fit me? I’m kinda little…” she observed, picking them up and reading the size. “Wait, how’d you find shoes like this my size?”

“They’re Mione’s, not mine,” Fern said. “Talked her into expanding her shoe collection. Socks are mine, though. Told you I had plenty of my own.”

Harriet raised an eyebrow. “Mione?”

Fern shrugged. “It’s what Marcus calls her in all the letters he’s written her this summer. I liked it, so it stuck. It was better than my nickname for her when we were little.”

“What was that?”

“Hermy.”

Harriet snorted back a laugh. “Hermy… I like that, too. They write often?”

“Like every day.”

“They fancy each other?”

“Ohhhhhhhh yes,” Fern sniggered. “They’re pretending not to. I don’t get why…”

Harriet sighed. “Mione—huh, that is catchy—she keeps a lot of things close to her chest. She never told anyone about her playing lacrosse. I had to suss that out.”

Fern sighed and sat on the bed. “That’s probably because of me… and my ‘going away’…”

Harriet sat next to Fern. Knowing Fern’s story, it hadn’t been Fern’s fault, but Harriet could see the guilt washing over Fern’s face.

“I wanted to write her… I could have! But how would she take randomly getting letters from Alessa Selene? Even if I tried sending her coded letters like the one I sent you?”

Harriet’s eyes widened, remembering. “Oh yeah. I don’t think I ever figured that out.”

Fern smiled a little. “I didn’t think you had when you didn’t call me Fern at the Gala. If you took the first letter of each paragraph after I said to ‘read it carefully,’ it spells out ‘it’s me Fern’.”

“Ohhhhhh,” Harriet nodded. “Wow… yeah I wouldn’t have thought to look for that.”

“Well someone’s gotta brush up on her Nancy Drewing,” Fern giggled bumping Harriet’s shoulder.

Harriet rolled her eyes. The subject of the Gala brought more questions to Harriet’s mind. “So, that whole face charm thing? How did that work?”

Fern shrugged. “I don’t entirely know. It was a trade secret, but I guess it just… made my face unrecognizable to those who knew about who I really was? So, like… when you _first_ met me, you saw my real face. But every time after that, it blinded you.”

“Wow…” Harriet muttered, chewing her lip sympathetically.

“I know you don’t want people to know you’re famous and all that… I don’t either, honestly… but do you have any idea how it feels to look someone in the eyes who you love and there’s just _no_ recognition there? They have no idea who you are…?”

Harriet felt her stomach turn in knots. She thought about Neville. His own parents had been tortured into madness, and could no longer recognize him. Harriet didn’t know how that felt, but she now had a terrifying fear that she might, and soon. Not wanting to think about that, she changed the subject.

“So how did those girls remove the charm? And what were they? I _know_ they weren’t human. Not entirely, anyway. I watched them leave. The red-headed one—Calla? Callie?—she grew long ears and she looked like she was furred…”

Fern grimaced, hugging her chest and rubbing her upper arms. “Sorry, I can’t tell you that. That’s a secret only Professor Howe and I know…”

Fern sighed looking up at the ceiling. “When I was ten, my parents divorced. Dad was mad about the kind of modelling Mum was signing me up for. Anyway… I overheard them mention they were going to get divorced when they were dropping me off and I ran away from school… I found myself in the castle’s old ruins. That’s where Calla—you were right the first time—found me. They could feel how upset I was and came to take care of me. Professor Howe made me swear not to tell anyone. They’re hiding, too.”

“I see…”

Fern forced a cheerful look back onto her face. “Well, enough of that stuff. Let’s get you changed!”

Harriet was taken aback as Fern started lifting off Harriet’s tee. She raised her arms automatically, letting Fern remove the shirt for her. Fern handed Harriet the camisole. Harriet put it on, then the dress.

“Shouldn’t I have a real shirt on under this or something?” Harriet asked, looking over her bare arms.

“Too warm for that,” Fern said. “This gives it a fun, summery feel. Shows your arms, you know?”

Harriet sat, pulling on the socks. They came up over her knees. She was about to fold them down when Fern stopped her.

“No, no. They’re supposed to do that. They’ll look silly folded down.”

“Really?” Harriet blinked.

“Yeah,” Fern smiled. “Adds some flair.”

Harriet blushed and pulled them up all the way. She then slipped on the shoes, buckling up the straps. They did fit quite well, though the heels were a bit taller than she was used to.

“Hmmm, you ever think about cutting your hair?” Fern asked, messing with Harriet’s hair from behind. “You could do so much with it if you cut it to like here: shoulder length?”

Harriet blushed. “Not—not really…?”

“Well, should think about it, anyway,” Fern smiled.

Harriet looked around for her bandanna. She was about to tie it around her neck again when Fern stopped her.

“No, that totally wouldn’t fit this style. Here, try this.”

Fern took the bandanna and lifted Harriet’s left hand. She tied it around her wrist like a bracelet.

“There, something nice and kicky,” Fern grinned and opened the little handbag, drawing out some lipstick. “Now, make-up.”

“Make-up?” Harriet asked.

Fern’s grin grew. “Yep, make-up. Hmmmm,” she put the first lipstick back in the bag and pulled out another “here we go, mulled wine, this’ll go great with your hair, and help bring out your eyes.”

Harriet sat on the edge of her bed and Fern sat beside her. She watched as Fern took out some blush, eye-shadow, and eye-liner. Harriet tried to fight down her apprehension. The last time someone else had put make-up on Harriet, it had been at the gala. That wasn’t the most pleasant memory for her.

“I’d think after all the crap you went through you’d hate fashion,” Harriet said as Fern took Harriet’s glasses off for her.

“Close your eyes,” Fern said, preparing the eye-liner. “I don’t hate fashion. I love it, actually. I like expressing myself. I just hate people using me for it.”

“Fair,” Harriet admitted.

“You can do so much with it,” Fern said, applying the eye-liner. “Like my outfit I wore yesterday? Totally trying to turn Kieran’s head.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows so fast she almost opened her eyes. “Really?”

“Oh yes…”

“D-did it?”

“ _Oh_ yes…” Fern replied, her tone such that Harriet could visualise her mischievous smile before Fern snorted a laugh. “And Scott’s for that matter… that wasn’t intended.”

Harriet chewed her lip. “Scott… he likes both, but he _prefers_ boys…”

“Ohhhh, that explains it,” Fern nodded

“So… you definitely fancy Kieran, huh?”

“Duh,” Fern muttered. “He’s probably the first genuinely nice, straight guy I’ve met. Other than Finn, of course, but Finn’s totally just my big brother.”

Harriet smiled nodding. “Yeah, Kieran’s like my brother, too. Is it because of the Wendy thing?”

It was Fern’s turn to blush. “I… kind of? It _was_ nice to meet someone who remembered a really fun time in my life. Something I was involved in that inspired people.”

Harriet heard Fern putting away the eye-liner, and felt the soft brush of the eye-shadow.

“I was kind of apprehensive when he first saw me at Hermione’s. That staring thing he kept doing. He later explained that it was because he recognized me, but he couldn’t think from where.”

Harriet giggled. “Yeah… he was staring hard.”

“That’s what made it weird at the Yule Ball. Like Dora told him I was Wendy… but he couldn’t make that connection in his head. Then that damn fairy zapped the charm and he could recognize me… I just totally panicked. But he was so sweet about it all and never blamed me… we started writing after that. Okay, you can open your eyes now.”

Harriet opened them, blinking. Fern took a breath before looking Harriet over in her outfit and giving a soft giggle.

“What?”

“Oh, just enjoying the coincidence,” Fern replied.

“What coincidence?”

“That you like wearing kneesocks,” Fern explained. “Finn has a thing for girls wearing them, too.”

Harriet was quite sure that Fern did not need to use the blush anymore.

## * * * *

“Oh goodness,” Hermione said as Harriet and Fern stepped off the elevator onto the ground floor. “You look lovely!”

Harriet grinned. She had a spring in her step after finally looking herself over in the mirror when Fern was done with her make-up. She thought she looked as good as she felt.

Everyone was standing down in the foyer. She caught Daddy’s eye. Fortunately, he did not seem to disapprove of this outfit nearly as much as yesterday’s. However, he didn’t seem to be paying much attention, either. He seemed distracted, and his eyes were bloodshot. Harriet wondered how much he had slept.

Mum noticed Harriet’s glance and seemed to understand what Harriet was looking for. “You look lovely today, sweetie.”

“Thanks,” Harriet replied. “I wanted to look good for them… Fern picked it all out though.”

“That was very nice of you, dear,” Mum smiled at Fern.

Fern smiled back warmly. “It was a blast, really.”

“Here comes the car,” Marcus called from the doorway.

The group moved out through the large entrance doors and onto the steps. Harriet looked around the group and noted that Mr Flamel was not there to greet her grandparents. She supposed he must be dealing with the Mr Gatsby issue.

There was the crunch of gravel and two cars pulled in through the gate. They pulled up in front of the steps. Ronnie nudged Harriet’s arm and Harriet realized she’d been holding her breath, breathing in deeply and feeling a lot less faint.

Aurors hopped out of the front of the first car. They opened the rear doors and two people stepped out. Whatever Harriet had expected from Aurora’s parents, it wasn’t what she got.

The first out was Aurora’s mother. She was tall, and willowy. Her hair was snow-white, flowing and straight. Her face was lined with age, but her eyes were bright and twinkling. She wore soft, flowing lavender robes, with several beaded necklaces, each with multi-coloured crystals hanging from them.

Aurora’s father was next. He was shorter than Aurora’s mother by half a head, but he was just as thin. He wore faded tan robes, with at least three silver clip earrings in his prominent ears. His hair was also long and white, but was receding markedly, and the entire front half of his head was bald. He had a neatly trimmed white beard and moustache, with a strong, wide jawline, and lips that looked incapable of frowning. His smile was jovial and he spread his arms wide, laughing as he caught a twin in each arm.

“Grampa Zeb!” Rosie squealed.

“Gramma Lisa!” Nan cried as the twins shifted to hug her as well.

“I’m so happy you finally made it,” Mum said, hurrying down and joining in the group hug.

As Harriet watched, she was surprised. When Mum and Gramma Lisa broke apart, Mum’s eyes were narrowed and accusatory. Gramma Lisa didn’t seem the least bit perturbed.

“Ahhhh, my Rora, darlin’,” Grampa Zeb said, hugging his daughter tight.

His voice was gravelly but kindly, and his accent sounded a bit like the Jacksons back at Hogwarts. Harriet watched Mum. She gave her father the same look she’d given her mother after they broke apart.

“Goodness,” Gramma Lisa said, taking in the house. “Is this a home or a palace?”

Harriet noted her accent was different than Grampa Zeb’s. She sounded much more like Mum and the twins.

“All proper homes are palaces,” Grampa Zeb chuckled, prompting an eye-roll from Gramma Lisa.

“Welcome to our home,” Mrs Flamel said, descending the stairs to greet the guests. “I trust your trip was pleasant?”

“An adventure for sure,” Gramma Lisa gave a floaty laugh, shaking Mrs Flamel’s hand.

“A bit faster pace than we’re used to for sure, but we’re not so old yet as to be unable to enjoy a new experience or two!” Grampa Zeb chortled as he shook Mrs Flamel’s other hand at the same time.

“Oh, y-yes, indeed,” Mrs Flamel stammered, clearly taken aback at the odd greeting of shaking both hands at once. “I’m Jessica Flamel. My husband Charles wanted to meet you but he unfortunately had some business to attend to.”

“No worries at all. This is my wife, Lisa. I’m Zebedee, but please, call me Zeb. Now, where’s this famous future granddaughter of mine?” Grampa Zeb grinned looking around the group.

“Here she is,” Daddy said, putting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder.

Harriet swallowed and started walking forward with him. The couple smiled warmly and started towards them.

“Oh, aren’t you a little vision,” Gramma Lisa said, putting her hands on Harriet’s cheeks, turning her face this way and that.

As she did, Harriet was overcome by a strongly herbal smell that for some reason made her think of Dudley.

“And your outfit is simply adorable. You dress rather like Rora did around your age,” Gramma Lisa leaned down and inspected the flap over the left breast pocket of the dress. “DD, aahhhh one of yours, eh?” she said giving Daddy a wink.

Daddy beamed with pride.

“The prim and proper type, eh?” Grampa Zeb laughed. “Yes, Rora was just the same at your age. Always wanting to look respectable, like a good girl.”

Harriet felt as though her face was going to burst into flames. She glanced at Mum and saw she was not alone. Mum looked rather like Hermione did when one of them was breaking a rule.

“A bit freer than Rora was though,” Gramma Lisa winked, “judging by your make-up.”

“Ah, Daniel,” Grampa Zeb said, shaking Daddy’s hand before pulling him down into a hug. “Good to see you all safe and sound again.”

“Good to be that way,” Daddy chuckled.

Grampa Zeb turned his deep, blue-grey eyes onto Harriet’s. His smile was comforting and kindly.

“Let’s get us a proper look at you, now. Well, you are a sweet one,” he smiled. “Yes, inquisitive eyes you’ve got; take in every detail, don’t you? Smart one; brave and strong.”

Harriet did not know what to say to such praise, and so simply held out a hand. “H-hi,” she stammered. “Harriet.”

Grampa Zeb grinned openly and pulled her into a hug. “Nah, child. No handshakes, we’re to be family! And families hug.”

Harriet couldn’t remember a time in her life she felt more awkward, and yet more perfectly happy as she slowly hugged him back. She felt so happy she didn’t mind that he smelled just as strongly of herbs as Gramma Lisa.

“Daniel, what’s wrong?” Gramma Lisa asked, looking closely at Daddy’s face.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Daddy said waving a dismissive hand. “Order business.”

“Ahhh yes, the mysterious Order,” Grampa Zeb nodded, his lips twitching.

“This is our friend, Emma!” Rosie said, pulling Emma over to introduce her to their grandparents.

“’Lo,” Emma said awkwardly, sounding a bit like her old, incredibly shy self.

“Charmed to meet you, young lady,” Grampa Zeb smiled, shaking Emma’s hand.

Harriet looked to her friends. They stepped up, and Harriet began introducing them. No one else reacted the way Mum had. The only noticeable reaction was Fern’s. She crinkled her nose as she shook their hands and gave the pair a shrewd look as they moved on to shake Scott’s hand.

All the while, Gramma Lisa and Grampa Zeb were perfectly pleasant. However, Harriet couldn’t help but notice that the whole time, Mum seemed on edge. Her smile was definitely forced, and she was clasping her hands together so tightly her knuckles were turning white. Daddy seemed to notice as well. He put a comforting hand on Mum’s shoulder and smiled at Harriet.

“Well, now we have a free afternoon, how would you like to show your new grandparents around town?”

Harriet’s eyes widened. She hadn’t been ready for that.

“That sounds like a marvellous idea,” Gramma Lisa said.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Grampa Zeb beamed.

“O-okay,” Harriet stammered.

Before she knew what was happening, she was off walking down the main road, flanked by her new grandparents.

“So… what has Rora told you about us?” Gramma Lisa asked, smiling kindly.

“Not much, really,” Harriet admitted.

Grampa Zeb chuckled. “That sounds about right.”

Harriet gave him a quizzical look.

“Ah, just family drama. Lisa and I are a bit too ‘free-spirited’ for Rora’s liking,” Grampa Zeb explained, making quotation marks in the air with his fingers.

“I-I see,” Harriet said. “So, what do you do for a living?”

“Ah, we’re retired now,” Gramma Lisa said. “I used to teach Astronomy, just as Rora does now.”

“Where Rora got all the brains,” Grampa Zeb whispered to Harriet behind his hand.

In spite of herself, Harriet giggled. “And what did you do?” she asked.

“Oh, let’s see,” Grampa Zeb muttered, rubbing his bearded chin. “After years of being a family disappointment, I made my way to North Dakota where I found my calling as an artist. An illustrator, if you will.”

“An illustrator?”

“Yes. For text-books, generally. Though if you were to ask my family, all that meant is I continued to be a disappointment.”

“Why did you have to go to North Dakota for that?”

“Ah, I was inspired by the open plains, and the native culture and art,” Grampa Zeb explained. “I wanted to help bring that to the public, to get people more interested in their tales.”

“And you were trying to get me to hire you to illustrate my newest book,” Gramma Lisa teased, giving Grampa Zeb a sly look.

“Well, that may have been a _small_ part,” Grampa Zeb winked back. “Mostly I wanted an excuse to talk to such a lovely lady.”

“How lucky that you were successful in both endeavours,” Gramma Lisa teased, before clearing her throat, remembering Harriet was there.

“So, that’s where we found ourselves. Two free-spirits in a backwards, back-water, bigoted land,” Grampa Zeb explained. “Doing our best to spread peace and love. Long story short, I learned how to dodge a punch quite well.”

Harriet snorted a laugh.

“After we retired we mostly relaxed, and travelled when not working on our garden,” Gramma Lisa continued. “Then the war started… we managed to make it to Minnesota, which was closer and didn’t secede.”

Gramma Lisa looked down at Harriet, smiling gently. “And what about you, dear? What things do you enjoy? Admittedly, we received quite an earful about you from the twins, but it’s always best to get your story straight from the source!”

Harriet fought back another blush. “I don’t know what to say about myself, really… Um… I guess I just try my best to be a normal kid?”

“Hmmm,” Grampa Zeb mused. “I say you’d be best served trying your best to be yourself. Yourself is always the best you to be.”

“What if I don’t know who that is?” Harriet asked.

Gramma Lisa put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “And how will you ever find that out if you don’t go looking?”

Harriet mulled that over. That certainly did seem to make sense.

Gramma Lisa leaned low, whispering to Harriet behind her hand. “And if you ever do find out who you are, let us know. We’re still trying to find ourselves.”

Harriet giggled again. “You’re both a lot cooler than I thought you’d be,” she admitted.

Both threw their heads back and laughed. “You’ve mostly dealt with Rora,” Grampa Zeb winked. “It was her form of rebelling, being the ‘respectable one.’”

“Admittedly, the twins did adjust her attitude, dramatically,” Gramma Lisa sighed.

“We did all we could to be supportive, but she never liked us being around the twins too much,” Grampa Zeb explained, rubbing a hand over the bald front half of his head. “Thought we were a ‘bad influence’.”

“I see…” Harriet muttered, not sure what to say about that.

“I hear you’ve had plenty of adventures,” Gramma Lisa changed the subject.

“Heh, if you want to call them that,” Harriet flushed. “Most people would call it trouble.”

“Hah!” Grampa Zeb slapped his knee. “She’s a wit.”

“Well, trouble’s what I’d call nearly getting crushed by a troll my first Halloween at school,” Harriet said.

“Oof, a troll,” Gramma Lisa nodded seriously. “How on earth did that get into a school?”

“One of the teachers let it in,” Harriet explained. “He was trying to get the Philosopher’s Stone for Lord Voldemort.”

Gramma Lisa whistled. “The twins didn’t tell us that one…”

“They weren’t at Hogwarts that year,” Harriet said. “I didn’t really know Mum that well by then. She was just the pretty Astronomy professor.”

Gramma Lisa and Grampa Zeb chuckled.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Calling her ‘Mum’ already,” Gramma Lisa smiled, resting a hand over her heart. “Bless you, so sweet.”

Harriet bit her lip, shrugging. “It just… stuck. After the attack, I was freaking out and punched a mirror. She held me and healed my hand and hummed a pretty song to me. It was the first time I ever really felt that feeling… like…”

“A mother’s love?” Gramma Lisa queried.

Harriet nodded.

“The song, did it go like this?” Grampa Zeb asked, and began humming.

“That’s it!” Harriet gasped.

Grampa Zeb smiled. “Ashokan Farewell, by Jay Ungar. It came out around the time the twins were born. We took Rora to a concert of his as a treat just before they were born. She hummed it to them every night to lull them to sleep.”

Harriet flushed, glancing back at the house. Mum had lulled Harriet to sleep with it just the night before. Harriet’s sense of belonging grew exponentially in her heart.

“So, Daniel was friends with your birth-father?” Grampa Zeb asked.

“Yeah, but he was closer friends with Remus. I didn’t get to meet Daddy until I was thirteen.”

The pair stopped.

“Why on earth not?” Gramma Lisa asked.

Harriet grimaced as the angry memory resurfaced. “I was sent to live with my birth-mum’s sister. Some sort of magical protection or something, because she gave her life to save me. I had to live with my mum’s blood. I guess it’s broken now… but Daddy wasn’t allowed to see me. He tried to adopt me, but Dumbledore stopped him.”

“Astonishing,” Grampa Zeb rubbed his chin.

“That doesn’t sound like him…” Gramma Lisa shook her head. “Not the stories I’ve heard…”

Harriet shrugged. “He told me he did it to keep me safe… but he was wrong to have done it. He made a mistake.”

“I’d say,” Grampa Zeb sniffed. “A child belongs with their proper family. Blood doesn’t make a proper family, love does.”

Harriet felt her sense of affection for her new grandparents growing.

“You didn’t have any other family?” Gramma Lisa asked. “Just your aunt?”

“Yeah… no grandparents or brothers or sisters or anything,” Harriet replied.

“Well, if you’re already calling Daniel and Rora ‘Daddy’ and ‘Mum,’ you can call us your grandparents,” Gramma Lisa said.

Harriet once more felt as though her heart was glowing.

## * * * *

The rest of the week passed with remarkable speed. Gramma Lisa and Grampa Zeb brought real life to Avalon. They regaled everyone with stories of their youthful escapades. They participated in a great many Native rights protests until they had Mum, at which point they seemed to settle down into a proper family life, and instead turned their protest efforts to books and stories.

Harriet liked the latter stories more. She liked hearing about what Mum was like as a child. She would sit and snuggle with Mum and the twins as Gramma and Grampa told their tales. She kept wanting Mum to hum the song to her more, but was worrying it was a bit childish.

The only two in the house who didn’t seem all that happy was Mum, and surprisingly, Beauregard. She didn’t know why Beauregard was being so irritable. He wandered the house muttering to himself in French. He was starting to remind Harriet a little of Kreacher. She wondered if Hermione and Marcus were continuing to try and sneak out of their rooms to meet each other in secret.

Mum was on edge the entire time. Daddy kept assuring Harriet that she was just getting worried about the wedding. Harriet didn’t think so. Every time they sat together and talked about the wedding, Mum seemed the happiest. It was only ever when Gramma Lisa and Grampa Zeb were sharing their tales that she seemed the most anxious.

Fortunately, Daddy seemed to get on swimmingly with Gramma Lisa and Grampa Zeb. He joked freely with them, and laughed more easily with them around. If Harriet didn’t know better, she’d have guessed they were his parents, and not Mum’s.

Harriet was having a harder and harder time focusing on these quandaries at the moment. Her birthday was coming. This would be her first birthday with a proper family. On top of that, she was anxious to hear from Sirius and Kreacher about their search for Finn. She knew she was being overly optimistic, but the thought of Finn being found for her birthday steadily began to fill her mind.

Not wanting to get her hopes up, Harriet threw herself into helping with wedding planning. Daddy was designing all the dresses and suits. Harriet and the twins were to be bridesmaids, while Professor Spring was going to be the Maid of Honour. Meanwhile, Remus was to be the Best Man, and Sirius and Moody would be the groomsmen.

Harriet was mostly involved in helping pick out décor. She wasn’t entirely sure what she was doing, but she was happy that her opinions were being so valued. She tried to pick the most sophisticated things she could when asked. Even if her ideas weren’t always picked, she wanted her parents to know how seriously she was taking this.

The Flamel’s were as generous as ever. They were providing the venue for the wedding, and procuring all the materials. The morning of her birthday, the Flamels took them all to the little chapel on the grounds, where the wedding was to be held.

Harriet gaped as she looked around the building. It was little and quaint looking on the outside, but as so often in the magical world, the inside held a surprise. Within the chapel, was an entire cathedral.

“It is modelled on ze original Notre Dame cathedral,” Mr Flamel explained. “Grandcestor Nicolas was a devout man,” Mr Flamel explained. “Until his dying day he would come here to worship.”

Harriet was only half listening as Mr Flamel gave the tour. She was too busy staring around in wonder. Behind them over the entrance was a massive rose window of stained-glass. She could just make out little figures in the circles of the rose window, and intricate patterns in the others. Underneath was a row of tall, arched stained-glass windows, each representing some figure.

Before them was the long nave, as Mr Flamel had called it. They were standing on a large, labyrinth. Harriet could tell the twins were aching to try and work their way through it, but restrained themselves while under Mum’s watchful eye. Harriet had to admit the idea sounded fun to her as well.

The nave was three stories high. Every level lined with more stained glass. The ground floor had great stone pillars, supporting the multi-arched ceiling. From each arch between the pillars hung beautiful golden chandeliers, all flickering with lit candles.

“Here we reach the crossing of the transept,” Mrs Flamel chimed in. “At each end of the transept are more rose windows, and ahead of us is the altar, where the ceremony will be held.”

Harriet gaped. The altar looked like its own miniature castle. The floor was polished blue and gold. The carpeting of the altar itself was a deep red with gold crosses, and all around behind it was a host of statues set in arched recesses, topped with crosses.

Grampa Zeb chortled. “Yes… a very devout man, indeed.”

“Such styling, such devotion…” Gramma Lisa said, looking around with the same sense of wonder Harriet felt.

“Even with magic, it took many years for this to be completed,” Mr Flamel explained. “Grandcestor Nicolas considered it among his most prized works here at Avalon. When we wizards went underground… many were left stripped of their faith. It was too dangerous for us to go to ze same places of worship we had enjoyed. So, Nicolas built zis here… where his magical brethren could still come for a sense of peace and belonging in the grand scheme of ze universe.”

Mr Flamel paused, running a hand along a railing, smiling in appreciation.

“Many would pilgrim across Europe to come here. Over ze centuries, most have lost this faith. Admittedly, us included. And so, zis place fell into disrepair. It was Castillon who set himself to repairing and restoring it with ze passing of Nicolas and Perenelle. Zis is where he mostly lives zese days. Even in his great age, he is tireless in his devotion.”

Harriet felt her attention waning. She was starting to wander off a little, taking in more of the building. There was something comforting about the space. There were many places she could hide, to be alone, to get away from the world here. It was so quiet, even with the nearby voices.

Harriet paused looking down an alcove. There were two large intricately carved stone blocks that Harriet was quite sure were tombs. With a jolt in her chest, Harriet knew who they had to belong to.

Mr Flamel noticed and sighed sadly. “Ah, yes, that is Nicolas and Perenelle… together in true eternity.”

Harriet wanted to walk over. She wanted to show the sorrow she felt. She’d only ever wanted to stop Lord Voldemort from getting his body back. Now, she’d apparently failed at even that.

Mum put a comforting hand on Harriet’s shoulder. Harriet leaned against her, and resumed walking about with the group as Mr Flamel continued the tour. She heard nothing he said.

“Come on, we still have your birthday to celebrate,” Mum said quietly to Harriet.

Harriet forced a smile and nodded. As they left, she still took a glance over her shoulder at the alcove. She had a sneaking suspicion she would be taking another little flight on her broom that night after everyone else went to bed.

## * * * *

Harriet’s birthday celebration was quite an event. The Flamels got magical fireworks to shoot off in celebration. Harriet thought that was going a bit too far, but Dora assured Harriet that was the routine for all birthdays at Avalon.

Her presents were predictable, but she appreciated them all the same. Everyone got her quidditch related items: books, cleaning supplies for her _Firebolt_ , new gear, and so on. The most interesting gift was the one that Gramma and Grampa gave her.

“It’s called a dreamcatcher,” Grampa Zeb explained as Harriet pulled it from the wrapping. “Rora told us you’ve been having troubled dreams. This is a proper one, made by the local Ojibwe tribe where we lived.”

Harriet studied the object. It was clearly handmade. It was a sprig curled and tied into a hoop. It was further held in this shape by a webbing of a material Harriet couldn’t recognize, with a small hole in the middle. Here and there in the webbing were little feathers and beads. It connected to the hoop at eight points.

“The webbing is sinew,” Gramma Lisa explained. “It’s meant to represent a spider web. According to Ojibwe, Asibikaashi, or Spider Woman, is the caretaker of all the Ojibwe. She uses her webs to take bad dreams from their children. At the time, her people were one, and this was easy. But as they spread apart, her job became harder and harder. So the people took to making these dreamcatchers to help her.”

“The hoop in the centre lets the good dreams through,” Grampa Zeb added. The bad dreams are caught in the webbing, and destroyed by the first rays of the rising sun.”

Harriet studied the dreamcatcher more. On the one hand it seemed silly. On the other, she felt it was very thoughtful.

Rosie seemed to read Harriet’s mind.

“They really work,” she insisted. “Nan and I had really bad dreams when we were little and still in the US. Gramma and Grampa got us one and they stopped right away.”

Harriet smiled gently. “Cool, thank you… I could definitely use some full night sleeps…”

She hugged Gramma and Grampa tight in thanks. As she parted, she caught Mum’s eye. Mum was genuinely smiling again, and finally seemed relaxed.

They had cake after this, which Beauregard and Snickers had made. It was one of the most amazing cakes Harriet had ever had. It was red velvet, with a vanilla frosting that tingled all of Harriet’s tastebuds. Harriet was at first surprised by the simplicity. Mrs Weasley had once made her a Snitch shaped birthday cake. However, the taste was such that Harriet did not mind in the slightest.

This was only the starter of the fun surprises Harriet had that night. Sirius walked over with his present. Harriet expected it to be something about Finn, but to her surprise, it was his knife. The one he had used to attack the Fat Lady’s portrait.

“This knife will open any lock,” Sirius explained. “Keep it on you at all times this year… at all times.”

Harriet glanced at Daddy. To her surprise, Daddy didn’t disapprove. Instead, he gave her a very serious nod.

“O-okay,” Harriet said, looking the knife over.

She wasn’t sure where she would be able to keep it discretely, or if it was even going to be allowed at Hogwarts. But if Daddy wanted her to have it, too, she supposed it was likely to come in handy.

As the party settled down, Harriet finally found herself alone with Sirius. She was on tenterhooks as she pulled him aside.

“So, what’s the news?” Harriet asked at once.

Sirius shifted uncomfortably. “We have some leads, but nothing solid. He’s continuing to head in a sort of southwesterly direction. But he’s very erratic. It’s… it’s as though he’s trying to go somewhere… but because of his memory lost he just… starts to wander. Kreacher and I still think he’s heading for Dublin. If you follow the road he’s on, it goes straight there. We’re imagining we’ll catch him around the border. He won’t have any documentation, so they won’t let him through.”

“Wh-where have you seen signs of him?” Harriet asked.

“I last had scent of him in Hillsborough,” Sirius explained. “From there he apparently got on another bus. We’re trying to listen for people talking about buskers. It seems to be how he’s surviving. Sightings matching his description have been reported in Gamblestown, but also down in Waringsford…”

Sirius grunted in frustration. “It’s like trying to track a fly…” he grumbled. “Every time we think we have him pinned down and figured out where he’s going, he changes direction. Not to mention we’re going on largely rumours. Who knows if any of the buskers people speak of are really him. There’s quite a few in cities. We tend to treat the tales from small towns most seriously, because they’re less likely to be places someone would try and sing for money…”

Harriet sighed. This wasn’t the news she’d wanted to hear. Sirius put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“We’ll find him. He can’t be on the run forever. Kreacher and I are making a surprisingly good team…”

“That’s good,” Harriet said, quite sincerely.

Sirius snorted a laugh. “Yeah… he’s bound and determined to help you. I can’t say we necessarily like each other… but we can work together. I do the sniffing, so to speak. Kreacher does the sneaking… he gets me into buildings where I can look at security footage, see if he’s gone past the entrances or come in to buy food, that sort of thing.”

Harriet pulled Sirius into a hug. Even if he didn’t have anything solid, the fact he was trying this hard meant everything to her.

“Thanks,” Harriet said. “I know you’ll find him.”

Sirius hugged Harriet back. “Thanks, I’m glad you believe in me. I definitely have had my days where I doubt myself.”

Harriet kept hugging him. From the doorway to the balcony came Hermione’s voice.

“Harriet? We’re almost ready for the campfire.”

Harriet blinked looking around. No one had mentioned a campfire. Sirius smiled kindly, put his hand back on Harriet’s shoulder, and they went to join the others. They headed down a small staircase off the balcony and into the massive back garden. Gramma and Grampa were already there, just finishing setting up a large ring of stones, with a stacked pile of sticks on the top.

Camp chairs were set up around the big fire, and Harriet took one between the twins. The sun was just beginning to set behind the walls, casting the garden in darkness.

“Here we are,” Grampa Zeb grinned around at everyone. “Let’s have a little light!”

He pointed his wand at the stack of sticks and at once they erupted into flames. A wave of dry heat swept over Harriet, and it was rather comforting, despite the already hot summer night.

“Lovely,” Mr Flamel grinned, putting an arm around Mrs Flamel’s shoulder.

“I quite agree,” Mrs Flamel nodded.

“Mr Dusk?”

The voice came from the house. Harriet looked around and saw Captain Kane walking over to them. His face was stern, but by now Harriet just figured that was the only way his face looked.

“What is it?” Daddy asked, rising from his chair.

Captain Kane stopped, looking into the flames as if transfixed. His face was blank, but Harriet could see something happening in his eyes. Harriet studied his eyes, and as she did, a little sense of giddiness welled up inside her.

“Captain?”

Captain Kane snapped out of his revelry and looked around at Daddy.

“Sorry,” Captain Kane said. “Memories. Anyway, we have a situation. McGonagall wants to speak to you.”

“On my way,” Daddy said, hurrying past Captain Kane.

Harriet felt the giddiness ebb away and worry replaced it. What had happened? Captain Kane did not look too concerned as he returned his attention to the fire.

“Used to have campfires like this when I was a kid,” he said. “They’re a big thing in the country in the US. Had my first Firewhisky around one, just before I left school.”

Grampa Zeb chuckled. “Ahhh, a little rebel,” he winked.

Captain Kane shot Grampa Zeb look that Harriet couldn’t read. She couldn’t tell if he was offended or not. He overlooked the statement.

“We’d always make s’mores around them,” Captain Kane said.

“S’mores?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, s’mores. A roasted marshmallow between two pieces of graham cracker with a piece of a Hershey’s chocolate bar. Always Hershey’s. It wasn’t a proper s’more without it.”

“We don’t really have those things in Europe,” Kieran said sadly. “They sound amazing, though.”

_They really do,_ Harriet thought.

Captain Kane snorted. “Heh, what kinda place is this… where kids don’t have campfires with s’mores?”

He kept staring into the fire. The group was silent, except for the crackling of the flames. Everyone exchanged awkward looks.

“Well, I’ll get back to see what’s going on,” Captain Kane said and turned, simply walking off without another word.

“…Is he okay?” Ronnie asked, jerking her thumb at Captain Kane’s back.

“He has had a very hard war,” Mum said.

The group fell silent again, as everyone became entranced by the fire. Harriet was trying to relax, but her mind kept being taken back to Daddy leaving. What had happened? The twins each took one of Harriet’s hands, giving comforting squeezes. Harriet smiled and squeezed back, appreciative.

The group finally began to break into chit-chat. Fern was chatting with Gramma and Grampa, who were giving her soft, sympathetic looks. Hermione and Marcus were talking about flame charms, inspired by the one Grampa had used to start the fire.

Even with her worry, the dry heat and soothing crackling of the campfire was starting to make Harriet sleepy. She lounged back in her chair, feeling her eyelids get heavy. She didn’t know how much time had passed, but there was the sound of footsteps approaching. Harriet looked around again and saw Captain Kane returning. She furrowed her brow. This time he had a sack under his arm.

“Miss Sinistra,” Captain Kane said. “Your fiancé needs you.”

“Is zere a serious problem?” Mr Flamel asked, starting to rise from his chair.

“We’re not sure,” Captain Kane said. “If there’s a problem it’s back in Britain. We don’t have any reason to suspect Avalon is compromised.”

Harriet frowned. She hated when people spoke purposefully vague like that. Just out with it, already. Mum rose and hurried past Captain Kane to the house. As when Daddy had gone, Captain Kane remained. He again was lost in the fire, when he actually smiled.

“Anyway, got you all a treat. Pulled a favour and had it expressed over.”

He opened the sack, and pulled out several boxes, a handful of chocolate bars and a large bag of fluffy marshmallows.

“Whoa,” Rosie grinned. “Awesome!”

Captain Kane chuckled and walked over to a nearby tree. He snapped a little branch off it, and pulled a small folding knife from his pocket. He began sharpening the end of the stick so only the white core wood was exposed. He nodded in a satisfied way and drew his wand, duplicating the stick over and over.

“Marvellous,” Gramma Lisa cooed. “You’re our hero.”

Captain Kane snorted. “Kids having campfires and eating s’mores. That’s exactly what I’m fighting for.”

At first, Harriet thought Captain Kane was being ironic. However, as Harriet looked in his face, she felt surprised. He was still smiling, and there was a hint of life behind his eyes Harriet hadn’t seen since the Yule Ball.

He handed out the sticks, and set out the supplies for them all. He was about to walk off when Grampa stopped him.

“Where you off too, Capitan?” Grampa Zeb asked smiling. “You’re not about to provide this bounty and not take part in it?”

Captain Kane paused.

“Besides, these poor Europe kids need to be taught how to make a s’more properly,” Gramma Lisa winked.

Captain Kane slowly turned back. “I… have to keep an eye on this situation.”

“Nonsense,” Grampa Zeb insisted. “If they need you, they’ll come for you. Have a s’more.”

Captain Kane chewed the inside of his cheek in thought.

“Well, I guess I can suffer one,” he chuckled, walking back over.

“There’s a good man!” Grampa Zeb beamed.

Hermione offered Captain Kane her stick and he plucked a marshmallow from the bag.

“Now, the first thing to know about s’mores, is that bloodier conflicts than the war going on right now have broken out over whether or not the marshmallow should be burnt…”

## * * * *

Harriet groaned as she lay back in bed. Her stomach was full to burst. She’d lost count of how many s’mores she’d had. They’d gone through the whole bag of marshmallows, even after the chocolate and crackers ran out.

She was still worried about what was happening. Daddy and Mum had not returned. Captain Kane made himself a couple more s’mores after the first demonstration s’more, which he gave to Harriet as the birthday girl. As he had, Harriet felt herself flush. It was nice seeing his old, dashing side return.

Harriet rolled over. She supposed she should try to sneak down to the chapel. However, since she didn’t know where Daddy and Mum were just yet, she knew she shouldn’t. They may come to check on her, and would be furious to find her not in her room.

Harriet sighed and tossed back the other way. She wasn’t going to sleep well tonight, that was for sure. She sat up, hopping out of bed and walking over to her presents. She picked up the dreamcatcher again, studying it. The design of the webbing felt hypnotic, almost like the fire had been.

She smiled at the fresh memories. After Captain Kane left, everyone had laughed much more freely. Talk turned to Hogwarts, and what lessons with him would be like.

“ _It is nice to see he’s a bit human_ ,” Scott observed.

“ _You think it’d be possible to trick him into taking his shirt off in class_?” Nan muttered.

“ _NAN_!” Rosie shrieked with laughter.

Harriet had nearly choked on her s’more, inhaling some cracker dust.

“ _What_?” Nan flushed. “ _He’s hot_!”

The circle had dissolved into laughter. Harriet managed to clear her throat, joining in. Nan’s face was red, but she looked even a little proud of herself for speaking out. Harriet put an arm around her shoulder, giving her a squeeze. Harriet certainly wouldn’t have been open enough at Nan’s age to have said that.

Harriet returned her attention to the dreamcatcher. She looked around her room. She needed somewhere good to hang it. She didn’t think it would really work, but she didn’t see the harm. And it was a thoughtful gift, all the same. What’s more, it was very pretty.

She decided to hang it from the lamp next to her bed. That way she could see it silhouetted against the light from the glass doors to her balcony. Getting lost in its intricacy just might help her sleep, she thought.

Harriet climbed back into bed. She lay her head on the pillow, squinting to see the dreamcatcher without her glasses. She smiled watching it twist back and forth slowly. She’d just closed her eyes when a flash of bright red light shone through them, making her jump and open her eyes again. As they opened, another indistinct flare of light outside the door ended in a loud, ringing thud.

Harriet sat up, fumbling for her wand and glasses. She cursed under her breath at her slow reaction as she aimed her wand at the door. She blinked in confusion. There was nothing there. Was there?

Harriet slid out of bed for a closer look. There was an oddly shaped object on the floor of her balcony. Harriet squinted. In the dim light, it looked oddly familiar.

Harriet walked over to the doors. She opened it, poking her head out. There was no one around. She did crinkle her nose. She could detect the same herbal smell in the air that she’d smelt on Gramma and Grampa’s robes the day they’d arrived. She looked at Hermione and Fern’s balcony. No one was there that she could see. Where was that smell coming from? Had it been from the flash of light? It had looked rather like fire.

Harriet looked down at the object. It was round, wide object, flat on top, and wrapped in paper that looked singed in one or two places. Harriet knelt beside it. There was also a note. Harriet stood, took the note back into her room. She turned on her lamp and held up the note. Harriet gasped. She recognised the writing at once. The looping, beautiful script was unmistakable.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_News of your recent history has finally reached me, even as remote as I am now. My heart breaks that even in my attempts to correct the damage I have already done, pain continues to follow you. The loss of young Master Negus, and then the attack…_

_You deserve better than this. And soon, I hope to have the tool to relieving you of much more pain in hand._

_I cannot yet divulge my location, or the nature of my mission. Even with as fool-proof a method of communication as a phoenix, the risk is too great. However, I feel I can give you one small amount of comfort._

_Via Professor McGonagall, I have become aware you are in possession of the memories of Master Finnbar Negus. I am also aware that at present, Sirius Black is gallantly and dangerous risking his freedom in an attempt to find him. On this subject, I have both advice, and tangible help._

_The first bit of advice is going to dishearten you at face value. While Sherrod did the only thing that could be done in taking Master Negus’ memories, do not think that it will be so simple as putting the memories back into his mind to return him to normal._

Harriet’s hands tightened on the note, threatening to tear it. What did that mean? That even after finding him, it would be pointless? She forced herself to read on.

 

_There is hope. And that is why I have chosen to give you this gift. You need it far more than I. Master Negus will need to be re-introduced to his memories. He will need to explore them, to see them. The mind is not a simple jigsaw puzzle, where thoughts can be taken out and replaced on a whim._

_Instead, you will use this gift. Walk with him as he sees for himself what has happened in his life. Help him rediscover himself._

Harriet looked back at the parcel on the balcony. Her eyes widened. She recognized what was inside the package now. But it couldn’t be. Dumbledore couldn’t have given something so special to her. Harriet returned her attention to the letter.

 

_You are an incredible, caring person, Harriet. You will be able to do this. You will undo a small part of an unspeakable crime. I have the fullest faith in you. You will overcome all of this, as you have overcome obstacles those even older than I have never had to face._

_Yours Most Kindly,_

_Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore_

_(P.S. – Do begin your lessons with Professor Snape as soon as possible.)_

Harriet threw down the note and hurried back out onto the porch. Her mind was almost blank as she tore away the wrapping. There it was, wide, broad, heavy and stone, its rim lined with runes.

Dumbledore had given Harriet his pensieve.


	9. Occlumency

“At the end of the day, the only person you have to please is yourself. Trying too hard to please everyone along with yourself can only lead to self-destruction from the inside out. Besides, are we not already our own harshest critics?”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet grunted as she managed to heft the heavy Pensieve into her trunk. DIDS hissed in agitation at the sound.

“Oh hush…”

Harriet smiled down into her trunk. She appreciated Jess enlarging the inside and lightening it for her. Harriet ran a hand through her hair as she studied the basin nestled inside.

She had to keep it a secret. She wasn’t entirely sure why, but she figured it was too important. Why else would Dumbledore have sent it to her in the middle of the night?

Harriet sat on her bed. She picked up Finn, smiling at him. “Look, Finn… something that’ll help once we find you.”

Harriet stared hard at the jar. Curiosity, and a hint of mischief, was starting to rise in her mind. She’d learned much about Finn that he hadn’t told many others. He’d told her about his parents’ guilt in helping with terrorist attacks, but there was a lot she didn’t know.

Harriet put her hand on the lid of the jar, and slowly began to turn.

“No,” Harriet said aloud, tightening the lid and setting Finn back down.

That wouldn’t be right. She couldn’t go into Finn’s memories without his permission. To help him, as Dumbledore had said, sure. But to just dive into his memories like that? That wasn’t right.

Was it?

Harriet was distracted by the sound of voices in the hallway. She crept to the door. Two people were approaching. She thought it was Daddy and Mum but she was surprised when she opened the door to see it was Mum with Mrs Flamel.

“Oh, you’re awake,” Mum said as she saw Harriet peer out. “We were just coming to see you.”

Harriet stepped out into the hallway. “What’s going on?”

Mum and Mrs Flamel exchanged dark looks. “We have a lot to talk to you about,” Mum said.

Dread began washing over Harriet. “Where’s Dad?”

“He’s fine, sweetie,” Mum said quickly, putting her hands on Harriet’s shoulders. “He had to go back to Britain. The Order needed his help.”

Mum gave Mrs Flamel a searching look. “It’ll probably be best if Harriet and I talk alone.”

“Of course,” Mrs Flamel said, giving Mum a sympathetic smile.

“Come on, dear,” Mum said opening the door to her room. “We’ll talk in here.”

Harriet followed Mum into her room. Mum sat on her bed gesturing for Harriet to sit beside her.

Mum rubbed her face wearily. “Harriet… Sebastian is missing.”

“What?!” Harriet stood up.

“Sweetie,” Mum said, putting a gentle hand on Harriet’s arm. “We’re looking for him. That’s where Daddy is right now.”

“What happened? Was it Death Eaters?”

Mum sighed. “At the moment, sweetie… we don’t know. We think so.”

Harriet sank back onto the bed. Her knees had completely given out. Sebastian was missing. That could only mean he had been targeted because of her. But how would the Death Eaters know? They must be following Order members. They must have seen one talking to him.

Mum put an arm around Harriet’s shoulder and pulled her close. “Daddy’s last message said there wasn’t any indication he’d been hurt… but his place had been ransacked.”

Harriet’s chest clenched. It had to be because of her. Somehow, someone had found out Sebastian was working with the Order. Even if he wasn’t in the Order.

“I’m so sorry, sweetie,” Mum said, stroking Harriet’s hair. “We’re looking for him. Daddy will have more to say when he gets back.”

Harriet wrapped an arm around Mum’s waist.

“Sorry, I know this is hard to hear after such a fun day, honey,” Mum soothed. “But we figure it’s better if you know…” Mum sighed. “And that’s not all…”

Harriet looked up at her. What else could be wrong?

Mum took a deep breath. “Your father and I were in talks with the French Magical Government. We… we were going to see about transferring you to Beauxbatons.”

“You mean I’d leave Hogwarts?” Harriet gasped.

Mum grimaced. “I told Daniel you wouldn’t like it… but it is safer here…”

“I’m not going to Beauxbatons!” Harriet declared. “I’m not leaving my friends behind—”

“Harriet, darling,” Mum soothed, heading Harriet off. “It doesn’t matter anymore. The Ministry just passed an ordinance yesterday. All natural-born British students have to attend Hogwarts now.”

Harriet blinked.

“We think it’s a measure to keep the story of what happened at Rathlin from getting out,” Mum explained. “The Ministry is trying to do as much damage control as it can… but a lot of British families who sent their children to Rathlin were threatening to take their students abroad and leave… so now the Ministry has made it illegal to do that.”

Harriet scowled. On the one hand, she didn’t want to go to Beauxbatons. She meant no offense to Beauxbatons, but all of her friends were at Hogwarts. Most of her best memories so far were of Hogwarts. Even if Voldemort was back, and Fudge and his Ministry were absolutely terrible, she wasn’t going to give up and run away. On the other hand, she thought it was stupid of the Ministry to do that. Just because Harriet didn’t want to leave Hogwarts didn’t mean everyone else had to go, too.

Mum kept stroking Harriet’s hair. “I’m sorry, sweetie… I’m so sorry…”

Harriet slumped against Mum’s side again. This was not at all how she wanted her birthday to end.

“Why don’t you and Gramma and Grampa get along?” Harriet asked. She didn’t know what made her ask it. The question just slipped out of her.

Mum went rigid, then slowly exhaled. “We do, generally. But it’s best if we… keep our distance.”

Harriet looked up at Mum again. Mum grimaced. “It’s my fault… as much as I try, there is a little part of me that blames them for… my life,” Mum explained. “When I was little, the other kids at school would pick on me about them. I was the ‘weird girl’ who grew up with the ‘weirdos’…”

“Oh, Mum…”

Mum gave Harriet a forced smile. “It’s okay… I did my best to be the ‘good girl’… to show I wasn’t like them. Then I hit puberty, and suddenly I became much more _popular_ than I was before.”

Harriet looked up at Mum. Mum was staring off into the distance, a pained look on her face.

“So, I started being considered ‘cool,’ and found myself hanging out with the ‘cool’ kids. And so—as we know—when I was sixteen…”

Harriet hugged Mum tighter.

“Needless to say it created a lot of tension. And I worry about the girls… particularly given how deeply my parents have thrown themselves into their new ‘herbal’ life…”

“Herbal life? Is that why they smelled funny?”

Mum rolled her eyes. “Yes… I don’t necessarily mind _them_ using it. I worry about them getting you all to start using it…”

Harriet raised an eyebrow. “What even is it?”

Mum twisted her lips. “An herb called marijuana. When smoked or ingested, it creates a sensation called a ‘high.’ They’re adults, and most magical governments don’t outlaw it, but many Muggle governments do. So again, I don’t mind _them_ using it as it’s their choice.”

“Weird,” Harriet said. “I thought I smelt it out on my balcony just a bit ago.”

“You what?” Mum said, instantly tensing.

“Yeah, I… stepped out on the balcony for some air,” Harriet half-lied, quickly, “and I could smell it.”

Mum stood up at once. She stormed towards the door. Her hand was almost on the handle when she stopped.

Harriet stared. Had she gotten her new grandparents in trouble? What if they got in a fight and it broke up the wedding? Would Mum get that angry?

Harriet braced herself. She knew what would happen were it Aunt Petunia. If Aunt Petunia had ever found out Harriet did something illegal, the world would have exploded.

Her whole body tightened. It could only have been Hermione or Fern. What if it was both of them? Would Hermione do something like that? Harriet wasn’t even sure what exactly the issue was anyway. Mum had said it wasn’t illegal in the magical world. All she knew was Mum was furious about it.

Mum squeezed the handle hard, but then took a deep breath. Harriet could just hear her counting backwards from ten. Mum tilted her head back, looking at the ceiling and taking another deep breath. She walked back to the bed and sat next to Harriet once more.

“Sorry, Harriet,” Mum said gently. “I shouldn’t have flown off the handle like that… I’ll have a talk with my parents about this tomorrow, and a chat with Fern.”

“Fern?” Harriet asked, wondering how Mum could be so sure.

“Yes. I saw her having a little chit-chat with Zeb and Lisa,” Mum explained, her voice still thick with disapproval. “And I saw that Fern recognized the smell too when they first arrived. I know a great deal of what Fern has been through. The Grangers filled Daniel and me in before she and Hermione came. However, Fern’s not my child, she’s not my responsibility, but she clearly needs help from real professionals. Just trying to dope herself up won’t help…”

“Help like Sebastian,” Harriet asked.

“Precisely,” Mum said. “We’ll do our best to get her some. I promise. Now… let’s get you back to bed. Daddy will be back in the morning.”

“Promise?”

Mum finally smiled. “Promise.”

Harriet kept studying Mum’s face. Harriet didn’t know if she could have kept her cool that well. Then again, she wondered if she could have even shown that much anger. Mum was always so in control, always knew just what to do and say. Harriet rested a hand on top of Mum’s and squeezed it, suddenly having a better idea of how she wanted to be when she grew up.

## * * * *

Harriet started. Something was on her shoulder. She looked up and felt relief to see the familiar outline of Daddy sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Hey, Harricane,” Daddy said gently. “It’s early, so you don’t have to wake up yet. I just wanted you to know I’m back safely.”

Harriet sat up and hugged him tight. “Thank you,” she looked up at him, hopeful. “Have you found Sebastian…?”

Daddy grimaced. “Yes, and no. The good news is: he apparently escaped.”

“Who did it? Was it Voldemort?”

Daddy shook his head. “Honestly, I don’t know. For some reason I don’t think so. The only signs of magic we found were defensive in nature. We found… to be honest we found quite a bit of blood in the house but it wasn’t his. It looked like he’d been attacked by a mob… but we don’t think any of them used magic.”

Harriet chewed her lip. If they hadn’t been using magic, they must have been trying to capture him.

“He escaped… and by the looks of it he threw one of his attackers through a wall…” Daddy sighed. “We think he went feral.”

“Feral?”

“Yeah,” Daddy rubbed his cheek. “The cat part of him took over. Hannah said it had only happened once before; just before he came back from the war. Anyway, there were reports on the Muggle news of a strange cat-man terrorizing London.”

“Terrorizing?”

Daddy grimaced. “Sorry, that’s the way the Muggles put it. He hasn’t harmed anyone that we’ve seen, just scared a lot of them. Apparently, he ran right through Piccadilly Circus… on all fours…”

Harriet chewed her lip harder. Daddy rested her head on his chest.

“Sorry, sweetie… so sorry for all of this. First your first boyfriend goes missing, now this…”

Harriet’s eyes snapped wide open. Finn was her boyfriend? Her first boyfriend? Wasn’t that Fred? Had they really been dating? Harriet didn’t think so. And yet…

“Anyway,” Daddy said. “I got a little belated present for you.”

As Harriet watched, Daddy reached down and picked up a package from the bed beside him. He held it out to Harriet, smiling softly.

“Arthur was going to bring it to you yesterday, but he got caught up in looking for Sebastian…”

Harriet felt her hands start to tremble. As with the pensieve, Harriet recognized the object under the wrapping without even opening it.

“It’s all fixed,” Daddy said softly as Harriet began tearing open the wrapping. “It doesn’t run on electricity anymore, so it’ll work at Hogwarts now.”

Harriet’s hands were still trembling as she held the Walkman in her hands. Her last present from Finn. Harriet set it down and flung her arms around Daddy’s neck. Daddy chuckled softly, hugging Harriet back.

“It’s going to be okay, honey… it’s going to be okay. We have each other… we’ll find him and Sebastian… I promise…”

Harriet hugged tighter. Daddy stroked her back, before gently laying her back on the bed.

“Okay, honey… get some more sleep. You can sleep in as late as you want, okay?”

Harriet managed a tired smile as she put the headphones on. Daddy leaned down, kissing her forehead. He smiled gently tapping the dreamcatcher with his finger, making it twist back and forth again.

“Sweet dreams, sweetie.”

“Get some sleep, Daddy.”

Daddy ruffled her hair and rose, wearily strolling from the room. Harriet watched him go, closing her eyes gently. She turned on the Walkman and hit play. There was a couple seconds hiss, when for the first time in weeks, she heard his voice.

“ _Hey, Dove…”_

## * * * *

The next two days were a roller-coaster for Harriet. On the one hand, she had her Walkman back and could at least hear Finn’s voice. On the other, she now had Sebastian to worry about. The one thing helping Harriet get through was the knowledge that even if he was on the run and not himself, at least Sebastian had escaped whoever had attacked him.

She wondered who it was that had gone after him. It couldn’t have been the Death Eaters. They would have used magic of some kind; stunning spells and such.

Who else could it be? Daddy had mentioned a mob. She didn’t know anyone who had a mob. Kinney always worked alone, didn’t he? He had Crouch, Jr with him now, but that was hardly a mob.

It couldn’t have been Kinney, Harriet told herself. Kinney could turn into a gorilla. He at least could have kept up with Sebastian. Harriet had seen first-hand what Kinney could do in that form. She didn’t know what Sebastian was capable of, having ‘gone feral,’ but she was sure more damage would have done been done to the house if Kinney was involved.

Harriet was further relieved to see Mum had taken the more sensible route with both her parents and Fern. Her parents were rather more subdued than usual, which told Harriet they had spoken, but Mum no longer acted quite as tense as she had been.

Fern, meanwhile, was acting as though nothing had happened at all. In fact, when Harriet showed her the Walkman later that day, the pair spent most of the day together, passing the headphones back and forth to listen to his voice.

“He was soooooo into you,” Fern teased, passing the headphones back.

“Yeah?” Harriet asked, setting the headphones down, now more interested in a chat.

“Oh yeah, he talked about you for like a week after. About your outfit and your cute smile and how bashful you were. Then he talked even more about you after he found out who you were. About how he got to dance with someone genuinely famous who didn’t say a thing about being famous, instead of all the girls at Rathlin who think they’re famous and act like it.”

Harriet flushed a little while Fern sighed. “I could so use a hit right now…”

“Hit?”

“Weed,” Fern grumbled. “Your mum confiscated what your grandparents gave me this morning…”

Harriet grimaced. “Why do you need it?”

“I don’t… I just like it. It keeps me mellow. It helped me get through a _lot_ of shows and shoots…”

Fern lounged back on Harriet’s bed. “We’d just do this, sometimes. When it wasn’t our turn on stage or in front of the camera we’d just lounge around the changing room and get totally pissed… Mum didn’t care. It was cheaper than getting me actual anti-depressants.”

Harriet grimaced. She couldn’t wrap her mind around Fern’s mum. Who would treat their child like that? Sure, the Dursleys had been positively dreadful to Harriet for years, but they’d always treated Dudley like a prince.

“It helped me deal with how hooked I was on other shite Mum made me take,” Fern continued. “Stupid diet pills… those were the fucking wors—almost—almost the fucking worst. When she’d make me throw up after meals, before she hooked me on the pills, _that_ was the fucking worst.”

Harriet clapped a hand to her mouth. Her own stomach was churning at the thought.

“Oh yeah, that was a treat. Then they gave me the diet-pills. They were better at first… then I got hooked on them. I get shaky if I don’t have them every so often. The healers at St Mungo’s gave me potions and stuff to ‘get over the addictions’ but they didn’t work as good.”

Harriet didn’t know what to say to any of this. She lay back on her bed, the pair just staring at the ceiling as Finn’s deep voice floated out of the headphones, just loud enough to hear. Harriet looked sideways at Fern. She was surprised that she was getting along with her so well for someone she’d known for such a short time. Perhaps it was because Fern got being different so much better than the others did.

Not that Harriet wasn’t having fun with the rest. They were suitably sympathetic about Sebastian, and gave her plenty of space the first day, then spent the second trying to do anything to cheer her up. They all went to play more Quidball, which did help Harriet’s mood.

Even then, Harriet’s mind was working. She kept looking for things amongst her friends. For instance, while playing Quidball, she noticed that Hermione and Marcus always played as far apart from each other as they could on the ground, yet they kept stealing glances at each other for approval whenever they got in a good kick.

She also kept her eye on Kieran and Fern. Despite there being three on broomsticks, Fern would kick the ball to Kieran twice as often as she did to Harriet or Dora. In turn, Kieran would throw the ball back down to Fern much more than the others. As usual, Fern grew too tired, but she could play much longer than before. When she sat, Kieran also bowed out to go sit with her.

Hermione was practically bouncing off the ground as she watched. Her squeal of delight quickly turned into a shriek when Dora threw the football as hard as she could, bouncing it off the ground right at Hermione’s feet, scaring her.

## * * * *

The next day, their Hogwarts letters arrived. Hermione was particularly excited about this, and no one was in any doubt as to why.

“Prefect badges are given out this year!” Hermione declared from the breakfast table.

Harriet didn’t particularly want to talk about school. She was still harbouring a hint of bitterness over finding out she’d nearly been sent to Beauxbatons.

“I still can’t believe that,” Marcus growled. “What could they be on about?”

Harriet kept eating her porridge and treacle. She had planned to keep quiet about the new decree as long as possible, but a letter from Hermione’s cousin, Camille, made it their sole topic of conversation the night before. Camille had almost been required to come to Hogwarts under the new decree. She had been born in Britain, despite having spent her entire life in France. France was presently fighting the law, and the Ministry it seemed was backing down enough to give exemptions to cases like Camille’s.

“I admit, I had rather hoped Camille would have to come,” Hermione said sadly. “But I wouldn’t want her to leave her friends…”

Harriet ate even more determinedly. On top of the frustration over not wanting to talk about this, she was feeling the added frustration over having the exact same discussion as the night before.

With the sound of fluttering paper, the post arrived. A whole parliament of owls descended upon the teens sitting around their table on the balcony. There was one for each of them. One by one, the owls settled down in front of all ten teens.

Harriet took her letter. She felt a tiny glimmer of excitement. What if it was her? She wasn’t sure she really wanted to be a prefect (she remembered all too well how Percy had acted as prefect) yet still she thought it might be cool. She would get to use the prefect bathroom, for one. She’d get to help guide new students around.

Harriet ripped open her letter and pulled out the papers inside. Her face fell ever so slightly. There was nothing about being a prefect inside. It was just their book list and the usual instructions about boarding the Hogwarts Express on the 1st of September.

Everyone exchanged looks, except for Ronnie who exhaled in relief.

“Oh, thank Merlin!” she declared. “Fred and George would have been miserable if I’d gotten the badge!”

“Mione…?” Marcus asked.

Harriet leaned over to look down the table at Hermione. Hermione’s hands were trembling as she upended her open envelope. A bright, red prefect’s badge slid out into her hand.

“Woohoo!” Fern cheered, raising her hands high in the air in celebration.

Hermione kept staring at the badge, then looked up at Marcus. Marcus tilted his letter, and as with Hermione, a prefect badge slid out into his hand.

“Well done, mate!” Kieran said, slapping Marcus hard on the back.

Marcus was so startled he nearly dropped his badge.

“Anyone else?” Rosie asked, looking on with interest.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Really?” Kieran asked, looking at Scott and Dora. “Neither of you?”

“Guess not,” Scott said.

Harriet’s heart sank. Scott looked positively devastated.

“Oh, Scott,” Hermione said, tactfully putting her badge out of sight.

Scott sighed. “My fault, I guess… I… not like I ever spend much time in my house. I had a third year last year who didn’t even know who I was…”

“Hey, I didn’t get one, either,” Kieran smiled patting his friend on the back.

Scott smiled feebly. “True…”

“Harriet and I didn’t get one,” Dora said perfectly cheerfully.

“Er, I don’t think _anyone_ wants to give you any power,” Ronnie teased, winking.

Dora sniggered playfully. “Yeah… that’s a _good_ call.”

Even Harriet laughed. The group quieted down, resuming eating and chit-chatting. Harriet kept stealing glances at Marcus. While Hermione was already deep in conversation with Fern about the responsibilities of a Hogwarts prefect, Marcus was acting more subdued. He was looking at his badge, but Harriet couldn’t decide if he was angry or confused.

They finished breakfast. Hermione hurried upstairs to use Fern’s bird, Effy, to write to her parents. Marcus moved much more slowly, staring down at his badge. Harriet moved up to him.

“You okay?” she asked.

Marcus shrugged. “Dunno… Never thought it’d be me… thought it’d be Kieran for sure.”

Harriet smiled encouraging. “Well, it is you, and you’ll be great.”

Marcus flushed. “Yeah?”

“Mmmhmmm,” Harriet confirmed. “You’re always looking out for everyone. You got duped into a duel our first year, trying to stick up for me and Mione. You fought so hard for starting the Muggle Sports Initiative. You were the only one who ran after Karkaroff to save him from Kinney…”

Marcus shrugged. “Someone’s gotta… wait, how did you know about Mione?”

Harriet giggled. “Well, Fern told me… but you also just let it slip at breakfast.”

“Oh…” Marcus grumbled.

“I don’t think anyone else noticed, though,” Harriet said quickly.

“Oh yes we did,” Dora sniggered, a few paces behind them.

“Marcus loves _Mione_ , Marcus loves _Mione_ ,” Ronnie taunted, grinning ear to ear.

Marcus scowled. “Oh, lay off…”

Dora put her hands on her hips. “We’re only teasing because you get so defensive. You need to lighten up, especially if you’re going to be a prefect now.”

“I mean, hello… _we’re_ dating,” Ronnie said, indicating her and Dora.

Dora grinned. “Hehe… yeah…”

Marcus kept blushing, but his shoulders lowered as though he was deflating. “Sorry…”

“They weren’t the only ones who noticed, either,” Scott called from farther up the stairs.

“Aye, we’re about to send out a school-wide release on it,” Kieran grinned with uncharacteristic mischief.

“You!” Marcus grunted and started running up the stairs.

Kieran and Scott laughed and Scott started running.

“No fair!” Kieran called after Scott.

“It’s the best way to escape a dragon,” Scott laughed. “Have a slower friend!”

“Oh, that’s not on!” Marcus said charging past Kieran and after Scott.

“Who you think’ll win?” Dora asked. “Marcus is fitter…”

“Yeah but Scott has the longer legs,” Ronnie observed.

“Ack! NO!” Scott’s voice echoed back down the corridor.

“Marcus,” Dora and Ronnie said in unison.

“See how well you send owls getting a nuggy!” Marcus’ voice rang out. “…thanks for calling me a dragon though.”

“Don’t mention it,” Scott grunted.

Harriet was giggling, but her mind was starting to go into gear. She remembered something. Marcus could apparently see the strange dragon-horses that pulled the Hogwarts carriages, and the vampires had ridden while attacking the Death Eaters.

Harriet connected the dots in her head. It was only a hypothesis at the moment, but she hadn’t been able to see the horse monsters until she saw the Death Eater being decapitated. Marcus was the only other one who could see them, and as far as she knew he was the only one who had seen someone die. He had seen Karkaroff being murdered by Kinney.

Harriet chewed her lip. She made a mental note that there was another of her friends she needed to have a little talk with.

## * * * *

Harriet took a deep breath. Professor Snape was about to arrive. She was pacing the lobby.

Her anxiety wasn’t helped by the news that Sebastian was still on the loose. Her stomach churned. He’d even found his way into magic newspapers. Harriet’s stomach had turned at the sight of that mornings _Daily Prophet_. A photograph of Sebastian was on the cover. His shirt was torn off, his hair raised, hissing viciously, down on all fours. His claws were extended, taking swipes at Aurors who were trying to corral him. According to the article, he’d managed to evade them yet again, and was once more running amok.

Harriet sighed. It was a strange feeling, seeing someone she had begun to look up to, who had been helping her, having lost control. What must have happened to him back in America to push him to this edge? What had his attackers tried to do?

“It’s going to be alright,” Daddy said.

Harriet stopped pacing. “I don’t exactly get along well with Professor Snape...”

Daddy chuckled darkly. “None of us do… but he’s the best at this.”

“But I haven’t had any of those dreams since,” Harriet said.

Daddy grimaced. “Might just mean Voldemort’s thinking about something else… or not thinking about it as hard. Again, we have no idea how this works… we’re all just giving this our best guesses, sweetie.”

Harriet slouched against the wall, crossing her arms.

“You’re going to be fine,” Daddy said, walking over and putting his hands on Harriet’s shoulders, leaning down to look her in the eyes.

Harriet forced herself to smile.

“It’s just a few lessons,” Daddy said. “Just to give you the idea. Most of the work you’ll do on your own.”

Harriet nodded. “Okay.”

It was another ten minutes before Professor Snape arrived. Harriet was surprised to note that unlike the other arrivals, he did not arrive by car. Instead, he came walking down the street, looking sallow and bat-like as ever as his long black coat flowed behind him, though Harriet couldn’t feel a breeze.

“Severus,” Daddy said, holding out a hand as Professor Snape ascended the stairs to them.

“Daniel,” Professor Snape replied curtly.

Harriet was pleased when Professor Snape shook Daddy’s hand, but still noted his reluctance. He looked around the opulent home, his face as unreadable as ever.

“Has a room been prepared?” Professor Snape asked.

“Right this way,” Daddy replied, gesturing to one of the small ground floor offices.

“Very well,” Professor Snape said, stroking his goatee.

The trio crossed the entrance hall and stepped into the little office. The desk and chairs had been moved aside, clearing the middle of the room.

“Thank you,” Professor Snape said, which took Harriet aback. “This will do excellently.”

“You’re welcome.”

Daddy gave Harriet an encouraging smile before quietly closing the door. Harriet swallowed. Professor Snape’s back was to her, but as she watched, he touched his wand tip to his temple and drew it away. As it did, a long silvery string of memory was left dangling from it. Harriet felt her hands clench. That must have been how Professor Howe had taken Finn’s memories. She felt even more uncomfortable as she watched Professor Snape lower the memory into a jar, which was also much like Finn’s.

Harriet began to feel anxious. Her worries about Finn were now added to a worry she hadn’t quite had before. Professor Howe was in Azkaban. She had been taking for granted how powerful he was at wielding magic. What if he lost his mind there? Sirius hadn’t, but so many others had—

“Focus, Potter,” Professor Snape said, snapping Harriet back to attention.

“Sorry, Professor,” Harriet said automatically.

Professor Snape gave Harriet a satisfied look. He pulled over the desk chair and sat in it, studying Harriet’s face.

“Now, Potter, that we were no longer distracted, I am here to teach you not only Occlumency, but also to control your Legilimency.”

Harriet raised her eyebrows.

“Some people—those who are particularly empathetic—can become what are known as Legilimens. People who are so adept at Legilimency it becomes a second nature to them. Former Headmaster Dumbledore expressed concern to me, in a letter, that you may well be susceptible of becoming so.”

Harriet swallowed.

“This means, Potter, that you will be unable to keep yourself from seeing the thoughts and emotions of other people,” Professor Snape explained.

“I can read minds?”

“It is not that simple,” Professor Snape explained. “The mind is not a book. But with proper willpower and/or proper empathetic feelings, the mind can be accessed. Memories can be seen, thoughts heard, emotions detected.”

_That’s still mind-reading,_ Harriet thought _, just not as literal…_

“Occlumency is the counter to Legilimens and Legilimency. Admittedly, it is easier to counter Legilimency with it than a proper Legilimens. Legilimency is an active spell. Thus, it is possible to actively counter it. It is far more difficult to counter a Legilimens, as they are constantly engaged in the process, often whether they want to or not.”

Professor Snape looked up at the ceiling in thought. “The Dark Lord is an incredible Legilimens. He can tell when almost anyone is lying to him. He is able to dive into others’ minds and find the memories and thoughts that contradict the lie. However, it is possible to use Occlumency properly against him.”

“Like you, sir?”

Professor Snape smiled. “Yes, like me.”

“So… he can just see into my mind?” Harriet asked.

“No, Potter,” Professor Snape replied curtly. “Time and space do matter in magic. Eye contact is essential for using Legilimency, and even a Legilimens must be within a certain proximity to enter another’s mind. Generally a few yards.”

“So why do I have to learn Occlumency?”

Professor Snape studied Harriet closely again. “It seems, as is often the case, the normal rules do not apply to you. It seems _you_ are able to flit into the Dark Lord’s mind across great distances. A heretofore barely understood connection exists between you and the Dark Lord. Whether the Dark Lord himself is unable to use this connection, or simply unware of it, we do not know. We have decided to err on the side of caution and assume he merely remains ignorant, and so we must prepare you for the eventuality that he discover it soon enough.”

Harriet tightened her lips. She was liking this less and less, but she didn’t see any alternatives.

“The key to fighting Legilimency is to empty your mind. However, there are other more direct counters. I will teach you these first. You will work on emptying and closing your mind on your own as homework between our sessions.”

“Like the Shield Charm or something?” Harriet asked.

Professor Snape gave Harriet a shrewd look. “Yes, Potter… Precisely…”

Harriet shrugged. “Prof—Crouch, Jr—taught me a bunch of defensive magic last year…”

“Yes, I recall,” Professor Snape sniffed. “Very well then, Potter. Draw your wand.”

Harriet drew her wand, taking a calming breath.

“You may use any spell to defend yourself that comes to your mind, Potter,” Professor Snape told her. “But the point is to clear your mind, to resist it mentally. I hear you are quite skilled at throwing off the _Imperius_ charm. The same principle is needed here.”

Harriet took another calming breath, her eye on Professor Snape’s wand. She forced herself to focus on Professor Snape’s torso. Crouch, Jr had taught her it was the hardest part of the body to fake someone out with.

_“Heads, hands, and feet can all be jerked in random directions to throw off your focus, Potter. Always watch the body. Where the body goes, the rest has to follow.”_

Professor Snape raised his wand. “ _Legilimens!_ ”

Harriet was ready, but she was also curious. She wanted to feel the effect of the spell first. She made no motion to stop Professor Snape.

The spell hit her. The office vanished, and a cavalcade of images began racing across her vision. She saw Dudley getting a new bicycle when they were five. She was nine, sitting in the tree looking down at Ripper snarling at her. The troll was looking down at her over the stall. Hermione was petrified in the Hospital Wing. Aunt Marge was about to slap her. She was lying on her side, having trouble moving with strong arms around her.

_NO!_

Harriet staggered backwards. Nearby she heard Professor Snape grunt with pain and the sound of clattering furniture. The room came back into view. Professor Snape had been knocked back into the chair, toppling it. He bent down, picking up his wand.

At the same time, the door opened, Daddy bursting in.

“What happened?” he asked, looking between the two, frantically.

“Miss Potter let me into her mind and lost control,” Professor Snape grumbled.

Daddy’s eyes narrowed. He opened his mouth but Harriet stepped between them.

“I-I did,” Harriet said quickly. “I wanted to see what it felt like so I didn’t resist… and now I know… so I can resist better…”

Harriet wasn’t lying, but somehow she felt like she had to defend Professor Snape from Daddy. Daddy looked back and forth between Harriet and Professor Snape again.

“I don’t know if these being unsupervised is such a good idea,” Daddy said. It was then that Harriet noticed his wand was in his hand.

“You would be a distraction, Daniel,” Professor Snape said, moving back into position. “Your proximity is likely one, as well…”

Daddy’s hand clenched tighter on his wand.

“I’ll be fine,” Harriet said. “I can defend against it better now.”

“…Alright,” Daddy muttered. “I’ll still be right outside.”

Professor Snape didn’t even try to hide his eye-roll. Daddy gave Professor Snape a look so scathing Harriet was almost surprised that bolts of lightning didn’t spring from them and fry Professor Snape on the spot.

Daddy finally closed the door and Harriet returned her attention to Professor Snape. Harriet was too taken aback to know what to think. Daddy had always gotten on with Professor Snape the best of any of the remaining Marauders. The exception being Professor Lupin, who was perfectly polite to Professor Snape, though Professor Snape did not reciprocate the politeness in the slightest.

The animosity between Professor Snape and the Marauders went back to their school days, when Professor Snape and her birth father, James, had apparently been rivals for her birth-mother’s affections. Professor Snape had constantly tried to get Harriet’s future birth-father in trouble, to the extent Sirius tricked Professor Snape into sneaking into the Shrieking Shack to run into Professor Lupin while he was transformed into his werewolf form.

Harriet closed her eyes and took a breath. In that moment, she remembered Mum the night of her birthday. She was so tall and composed, even in the face of having had so much anxiety throughout the week. Harriet tried to visualise herself the same way. She could handle this. She could be like Mum.

“Well, now we’re free of interruptions, we may continue,” Professor Snape said.

Harriet rubbed her head. “So… you saw everything I saw?”

“I saw glimpses,” Professor Snape said. “A more thorough invasion would have shown me more.”

His face soured. “To whom did the dog belong…?”

“M-my Aunt Marge,” Harriet said. “The one who was going to hit me…”

Professor Snape sniffed and gave his wand a little spin in his hands. Harriet blinked. Was Professor Snape angry on her behalf?

“I see…” Professor Snape muttered. “Let us continue, Potter. You must attempt to repel me this time.”

“Yes, Professor.”

“Remember how you repelled the _Imperius_ charm,” Professor Snape cautioned. “Show the world what you are worth, Potter.”

Harriet kept staring at Professor Snape. She was trying to process his behaviour. Professor Snape had spent years trying to pretend that Harriet did not exist. Now, he was encouraging her. Even praising her. At least, she thought he was praising her. It was difficult to know for sure with Professor Snape.

“Prepare yourself, Potter,” Professor Snape said, readying his wand. “Empty your mind of all thought; all emotions.”

Harriet took a breath. _Like Mum,_ Harriet thought. _Be strong, like Mum_.

“ _Legilimens_.”

Harriet was ready, but Professor Snape was still too quick for her. Harriet was diving down on a massive, horned dragon. She was staring up at Lily and James smiling down at her from the other side of a mirror. Then their ghostly forms were speaking to her quietly, lit by a golden web.

_Daddy and Mum_.

Harriet shouted in pain. She’d fallen to the floor, landing on her knees on the hardwood. It felt like she’d broken them both.

“Stand up, Potter.”

Harriet forced her eyes open. Professor Snape was standing over her. To her surprise, she saw Professor Snape’s hand in front of her face. She took it, Professor Snape pulling her to her feet.

The door opened again.

“What happened this time?”

Harriet looked around. Daddy was standing in the doorway. As Harriet looked up at him, a feeling she’d never felt before when looking at him rose up inside her.

Shame.

Harriet felt a deep shame. She’d been calling him Daddy for so long, but that wasn’t right. She had a father. James and Lily Potter were her parents. Her real parents. They’d given their lives for her. And here Harriet was, calling other people her parents.

She felt his hands on her shoulders.

“Harriet…?”

Harriet couldn’t look at him. She just couldn’t. He cared for her so, like a daughter. He’d been there so many times. And yet…

“You cannot coddle her forever, Daniel,” Professor Snape said. “She needs to learn.”

“Shut up, Severus… if I needed your advice I’d have asked…”

Harriet buried her face in her hands. Emotions were washing over her. She’d never truly known either of her parents. Her only real memories of them was their deaths, seeing them in the Mirror of Erised, and their shadows in the graveyard. In just over a year, Daniel had stepped into that role as best he could, to the extent Harriet now thought of him as Daddy without hesitation.

Daniel. Harriet couldn’t remember the last time she’d thought of him that way. Her shoulders began to shake. Despite all her efforts, tears were beginning to pour from her eyes. She wanted to tear out her own heart. How could she do this to Lily and James? How could she now turn on Daniel and Aurora so quickly?

Harriet didn’t remember starting, but all of the sudden she was running. She was halfway to her room by the time she came to her senses. She kept going.

Harriet flung her door open and slammed it shut behind her. Hedwig shrieked in fright, flapping her wings, feathers flying everywhere. DIDS hissed from his nest he’d apparently just made by shredding one of her pillow cases.

Harriet didn’t care. She fell back against her door, slumping to the floor. She was a terrible person. She was betraying her parents. She was now hurting Daniel and Aurora. They moved up their wedding so they could adopt her. They were going to have it in a beautiful cathedral. And here Harriet was, freaking out over them not being her real parents. How was she supposed to feel about this?

She ignored the gentle knock on her door. She ignored the next one half an hour later. She also ignored the third knock around dinner time.

“Harriet… I’ve brought you some supper… I’m… just going to leave the plate out here… in case you’re hungry…”

Harriet wasn’t hungry. She didn’t want to eat anything again. Ever. She wanted to be alone. Forever. Slowly, Harriet’s eyes drifted to her _Firebolt._

## * * * *

Harriet grunted as she pushed open the door to the chapel. It was heavier than Mr Flamel had made it look. She stepped inside and shivered, her eyes adjusting to the dark building. It had to be twenty degrees cooler in here than it was outside.

Harriet pushed the big door shut as quietly as she could. She felt satisfied as it closed with barely a click. Harriet stepped backwards, still looking at the door. She felt a sense of peace. No one knew she was here. She was alone.

Harriet turned and began walking towards the nave. She turned in circles as she did so, taking in the carvings and the stained glass. This place felt old, like Hogwarts. Maybe that was why Harriet felt attached to it.

She paused at the edge of the labyrinth in the floor. She was again visited with the temptation to solve it, but she resisted. That wasn’t why she was here. She was procrastinating.

Harriet’s eyes moved in the direction of the alcove. Dread was growing along with her shame. Why did she need to see them so badly? Just to apologize?

Harriet steeled herself. _Remember Mum. Mum would be brave. Mum would… which Mum, though_?

Harriet shook her head as if shooing a fly. She took a deep breath and walked towards the alcove. Her feet felt as though they were made of lead. She was barely lifting them as she moved across the polished floor.

The first time she was here, the silence had been comforting. Now, it was starting to feel oppressive. The building felt as though it was haunted; as though eyes were looking at her out of every shadow.

Harriet paused in the entrance to the alcove. The tombs were there. Harriet stared at them, taking them in from a distance. The ends of the tombs were intricately carved. Harriet couldn’t make out the carvings in the dim light. She crept closer.

She was being stupid. No one was here. Why was she creeping?

Harriet knelt down to look closer at the carvings. Both were the same: carvings of two people Harriet took to be Nicolas and Perenelle performing charitable deeds. She saw them with a group of people Harriet took to be sick, perhaps plagued. They were feeding them all from a big cauldron. Harriet wondered if it was Elixir of Life. Harriet read on. She saw them giving gold to the poor, helping rebuild damaged buildings with their wands.

Harriet sat. Rather, she fell back on her hind end, and didn’t seem to mind the pain. This was her fault. They were such great, and good people. Everything was her fault. Why had she ever been born? Her birth had been foretold. She was supposed to be the one to vanquish Lord Voldemort. But she kept making everything worse.

Harriet wiped more tears from her eyes as she looked over the rest of the tombs. She had thought the sides of the tombs were bare at first, but on closer inspection, she saw they were marked as well. She slid over for a better look. The markings were too faint to make out.

“ _Lumos_ ,” Harriet said, lighting her wand.

The markings were five sets of hand prints. They went from biggest to smallest. Under each was scrawled a name: Charles, Jessica, Dora, Emma, and Castillon.

Harriet pressed a hand over Dora’s palm print. They had grown so much since then, even Harriet, the smallest of the group. She didn’t feel that much bigger.

Harriet stood, looking down on the tomb lids. Both were carved as well. On the left was a relief of a man, and on the right a woman. Harriet took these to be representations of Nicolas and Perenelle.

Harriet set a hand on top of Nicolas’ tomb.

“I’m sorry…” Harriet said, wiping her eyes. “For everything.”

She looked down at little Castillon’s handprint. While the others were simply pressed in, Harriet noted that Castillon’s handprint seemed clenched. His fingers had dug in rather deeper than the rest.

Castillon. No wonder he wouldn’t talk to Harriet. This was her fault. She’d taken away his best friend.

“I’m so sorry,” Harriet said aloud. “I’m… I’m trying to be good, but I never know what that is… I feel like nothing I do works… I just wanted to stop Voldemort… I just want to live… I’m sick of hurting everyone…”

Harriet heard the click. She reacted at once, turning off her wand and ducking into a shadowy corner. She hid behind a statue of a young woman holding a baby and listened.

The clicking came closer and closer. Harriet held her breath as best she could. Of course Castillon would show up now. Mr Flamel said he practically lived here, hadn’t he?

The clicking stopped. Harriet sniffed as she smelled a faint scent of incense. It grew, filling the room. She peered out to see Castillon swinging a small ball on a chain, smoke coming from it. He set it down, then knelt as best he could. He set out candles, and lit them with a snap of his fingers.

The ancient elf closed his eyes, and drew the silver vial from his pocket. He uncorked the top, and took the tiniest of sips. He shuddered and coughed, replacing the stopper and tucking the vial back into his pocket.

_It’s Elixir of Life_ , Harriet thought, _it has to be._

Castillon cleared his throat, and slowly began a recitation. Harriet didn’t recognize the words, but she guessed it was Latin.

_“Beati pauperes spiritu quoniam ipsorum est regnum caelorum. Beati mites quoniam ipsi possidebunt terram. Beati qui lugent quoniam ipsi consolabuntur. Beati qui esuriunt et sitiunt iustitiam quoniam ipsi saturabuntur. Beati misericordes quia ipsi misericordiam consequentur. Beati mundo corde quoniam ipsi Deum videbunt. Beati pacifici quoniam filii Dei vocabuntur. Beati qui persecutionem patiuntur propter iustitiam quoniam ipsorum est regnum caelorum.”_

The little elf rested a hand on Nicolas’ tomb.

“Until we meet again, someday, old friend…”

Castillon turned and rested a hand on Perenelle’s tomb.

“Until we meet again, my dear lady… I continue your last wish… I keep your family safe…”

Harriet was watching closely. Castillon’s eyes drifted to her.

“I thought I’d find you here.”

Harriet was so startled she fell backwards and bonked her head on the wall.

“Ow,” she shouted out in surprise and pain.

“The entire village is looking for you,” Castillon said.

“How’d you know?” Harriet asked, moving out from behind the statue.

“The last I checked, the Virgin Mary did not have spectacled eyes poking out of her behind,” Castillon chuckled.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “I meant how did you know I’d be here?”

“I saw the way you looked at the tombs during your tour,” Castillon said.

“Are you everywhere?” Harriet asked.

“No, but you were—and are—in my home…”

Harriet looked away apologetically. “Sorry…”

“I’m touched, Harriet Potter, that you care so…”

Harriet looked down at Castillon.

“The Flamels so rarely visit Avalon anymore… it is lonely.”

Harriet sat beside Castillon. The elf wasn’t looking at her, just staring at Nicolas’ tomb.

“I really wish I could have known them…”

Castillon smiled feebly. “One of Nicolas’ final regrets was having never met you…”

Harriet flushed.

“Nicolas cared about people, Harriet Potter. Much more than he perhaps should have. He thought he could make a difference in this world. The words I spoke… they were his favourite.”

“What was it?”

“Part of the Sermon on the Mount. The parts I enjoy, at least.”

“The parts you enjoy?”

“The parts that remind me most of Nicolas," Castillon cleared his throat. “Blessed are the poor in spirit, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are they that mourn: for they shall be comforted. Blessed are the meek: for they shall inherit the earth. Blessed are they which hunger and thirst for righteousness: for they shall be filled. Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy. Blessed are the pure in heart: for they shall see God. Blessed are the peacemakers: for they shall be called the children of God. Blessed are they which suffer persecution for righteousness’ sake; for theirs is the kingdom of heaven.”

Harriet pondered those words. “I gotta say I like that.”

“Tis an ancient philosophy,” Castillon explained. “Most of the great faiths believe or believed in similar tenants.”

“So, you don’t believe in it?”

Castillon shook his head. “I’ve seen too much of this world to truly believe in anything, Harriet Potter. But it’s what Nicolas believed, and it pushed him to do many great things. But a great many people have been pushed by words of the same book to do great evil.”

Harriet kept digesting his words.

“What we do in this world is up to us, whether it is great good or great evil. Some of us are content to just survive and make the world a bit brighter, and make sure as many people are on time as we can…”

Harriet gently rested a hand on little Castillon’ shoulders.

The little elf gave a snorting laugh. “Thank you, Harriet Potter…”

Castillon took a deep sigh and sniffed. “So… what is it that has you so on the run?”

Harriet pulled her knees up to her chest, hugging her arms around her leg.

“I’m a terrible person?”

“And what led you to this conclusion?”

Harriet hugged her legs tighter. “My parents died to save me. But I’ve never really met them. But I already call Daniel and Aurora ‘Daddy’ and ‘Mum’…”

“I see… and you feel you are betraying your parents and their sacrifice?”

Harriet nodded. “Last spring… I even tried to talk myself into believing that Daniel was my actual dad… that he… that he and Lily…”

Castillon sighed. The pair sat in silence for a moment before Castillon spoke again.

“Yes… I can see how you found yourself at that conclusion… but even a logical path to a conclusion does not entail the conclusion is correct. Ask yourself, Harriet Potter, would your parents want you to grow up in a place of love and happiness?”

“I… probably.”

Castillon gave her a sideways glance.

“Okay, yes…”

“I heard it once said… I can’t remember by whom… but the gist was it is not blood that makes family. It is love. Your birth parents loved you, and so they are family. Even if they’re gone. Daniel and Aurora love you, and so they are now family.”

Harriet wiped her eyes again.

“Do you love them?”

“Of course I do!” Harriet choked out. “They’re amazing and they’re always there for me! I’ve felt more at home and at peace with them than I ever have! Even when it feels like the whole world’s falling apart!”

Castillon said nothing, letting Harriet let it out. “I just want everyone to be happy! I’m sick of it! I’m sick of people being hurt! I want Finn back safe! I want Sebastian back safe! I want to be in my new house with Mum and Daddy and my sisters and never have to worry about anything happening to them! I don’t want to have to worry about my friends being in danger just because they’re my friends!”

Harriet broke down completely. She felt Castillon’s little hand rest on her arm. It was very warm. Castillon still said nothing, just sat there comforting her. Harriet barely registered the sound of voices shouting her name.

“Harriet!”

Hands were pulling her up. She could barely see Daddy and Mum’s faces through her tears. She could see clear enough to make out the worry on their faces. They weren’t angry. They looked equal parts scared and relieved.

“We were so worried!”

“Honey please don’t ever run off like that again!”

“Please come to us when you’re upset, we’re always here to listen to you.”

“I’m just so glad you’re safe!”

Harriet flung her arms around their necks. She hugged them as tight as she could, feeling two more pairs of arms hold her. She slowly opened her eyes again. Her sisters had joined the hug as well.

Her friends were all standing around, looking on with the same looks of worry and relief her parents had. Castillon was walking away, his little cane clicking. He turned giving Harriet one last sad smile before he moved out of sight.


	10. The Wedding

 

“The scars on our minds and hearts are never far below the surface.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet was back in her bed. It was well past midnight. Her mind was still reeling with everything that had happened.

After returning to the house, she’d sat with Mum and Daddy for a while. They let her say everything she’d told Castillon. Mum and Daddy said nothing. They just kept looking at each other, as though having a conversation entirely with their eyes.

After Harriet was done, Daddy walked her upstairs to her room. She changed in to her nightclothes and got into bed. Daddy gently pulled the covers up over her. She snuggled down under them, hugging one of her pillows tight.

“Try and sleep, honey,” Daddy said softly, stroking her hair.

Harriet nodded, looking up at him as he took off her glasses for her.

“Daddy…” Harriet asked.

“Yes, sweetie?”

“Why aren’t your parents here…?”

Daddy grimaced. “They’re gone, honey… have been for some time.”

“You were an orphan too…?”

“No. Not the same way. I was grown when they passed.”

Harriet put a hand on his arm. She kept looking in his eyes. She thought she could see his pain, even if she could barely make out his face. He wasn’t telling her everything.

“They were killed…” Harriet said. “You were away…”

Harriet was taken aback by herself. She wasn’t asking, she was declaring. _How do I know that?_ Harriet thought. _Is that my Legilimency? Am I doing it now?_

Daddy didn’t move, nor speak. Silence fell over the room, full and heavy.

“Yes, sweetie,” Daddy finally spoke up. “That’s right. I was away… on assignment.”

“Was it the time you went away after that Hallowe’en?” Harriet asked. “The time you were talking about with Remus and Sirius after Sirius was released?”

Daddy chuckled. “You are such a little sneak…”

Harriet’s face fell. “Well if people ever just told me stuff I wouldn’t have to sneak around all the time.”

The sound Daddy made was somewhere between a laugh and a sigh.

“That’s fair,” he said softly. “Yes, they were killed while I was away. We think the Death Eaters wanted to get information on me out of them. I was going on a secret mission for the Auror office, working with the Finnish Defence Force.”

“Oh, Daddy…”

“It was a long time ago now,” Daddy said. “Nothing to worry yourself about.”

“Is that why you get on with Gramma and Grampa so well?”

Daddy looked away as he pondered Harriet’s words. “Yeah, I guess so. I guess we’re both getting new parents out of this.”

Harriet sat up, hugging Daddy tight. He held her again, rocking her gently.

“We’re going to be okay, Harriet,” he said softly. “We’re going to be okay. Rora and I will marry in two days, and then we’ll file for adoption, and we’ll be okay.”

Harriet felt so content in that moment that she fell asleep in his arms. She never felt Daddy lay her back down, tuck her back in, and quietly stroll from the room.

## * * * *

It was the morning of the wedding. It had finally arrived. As a treat, Harriet and her friends were escorted into Paris itself so Harriet and the twins could get their hair styled at an authentic salon and they could do some sight-seeing.

Eight Aurors were with them, Hercule included. Daddy and Mum were still back in Avalon. Mum needed extra time to have her hair done right, and to get into her dress. Harriet had to admire the Aurors’s dedication. If Harriet hadn’t known Hercule, she never would have guessed they were Aurors. They wore convincing Muggle clothes, and it was four men and four women, walking along with the teens as though they were parents.

Firstly, they met up with Camille, who was coming to the wedding too. She led them on a tour of Paris with Dora, showing their favourite Muggle shops. They weren’t going to enter the magical quarter of Paris. Hercule thought that would be too risky. There was too great a chance that Harriet would be recognized.

After shopping, they went to the Eiffel Tower. Harriet was so excited, she was the first one off the lift at the top. Finally, she was adventuring, seeing the Eiffel Tower for the first time. She didn’t think the Dursleys had ever been here.

The view was amazing. She could see the whole city from here. Harriet had been high in the air on her broomsticks, but somehow the feeling wasn’t the same. Somehow, the sensation of looking down on a city like this put her altitude into far greater perspective. She grinned at the tiny cars bustling by down below, and the little dots of people on the mall before the tower.

Hermione didn’t seem as excited as the rest. She had already visited the tower before, which wore off a bit of the novelty. There was also her dislike of heights in general.

Marcus and Camille hung back to stay with Hermione. Kieran and Fern moved off on their own, chatting softly. So did Dora and Ronnie. This left only Scott and Harriet standing together.

“Heh, seems we’re the only two,” Scott said, with a fake laugh.

“Yeah…” Harriet sighed. “Least you’ll have Colm at Hogwarts…”

Scott bumped her shoulder. “We’ll find Finn.”

“How are you so sure?”

Scott smiled. “I guess I have to be, otherwise I’d go insane.”

Harriet pondered that. “I guess you’re right…”

“I often am—ack!”

Scott grunted as Harriet nudged him hard with her elbow.

He laughed. “Okay, okay. But I mean… haven’t you been doing the same? You never talk about what happened…”

Harriet grimaced. “Yeah, I guess I have…”

Scott was right. Harriet had been forcing herself to not think about the attack.

“If I were you… I wouldn’t do that too much,” Scott warned. “I used to. Just try and forget bad things, I mean.”

“What do you do instead?”

Scott shrugged. “Just try and keep focusing on the positive things in life.”

“How’d you get so wise?”

Scott shrugged. “Spent my whole life hiding in books, the woods, and pretending to be what I’m not?”

Harriet put a hand on Scott’s shoulder. It happened in an instant. She had an image of two young boys, much too young to go to Hogwarts. One had black hair and the other copper. The copper haired boy had a walking stick and was sitting with his leg outstretched as he doodled out a map on parchment. The black-haired boy wasn’t watching the map, however. His eyes were lingering on the copper-haired boy’s face.

“Oh, Scott…” Harriet said softly.

“Hm?”

Harriet shook her head as if chasing off a fly. “Nothing,” she said quickly. “Just… everyone’s life kinda sucks, huh?”

“Heh, nothing’s ever perfect… but ugh, how boring would a perfect life be?”

Harriet snorted. “Would we even recognize one?”

“Probably not,” Scott chuckled.

They fell silent, looking out on the city. Harriet wasn’t paying attention. Her mind was now full of something more worrying. She must have used her Legilimency again without meaning to. She didn’t know how the future of her Occlumency lessons was going to go after the incident with Professor Snape. She had to learn how to shut that off, for her friends’ sakes as well as her own.

## * * * *

From the Eiffel Tower, they went to see the real Notre Dame Cathedral. As the group walked along the Seine, they were stopped by a commotion as they passed Rue de la Legion d’Honneur.

There was a large crowd of haggard looking people gathered around a man standing on a soapbox. The man’s back was to them, and he was speaking loudly, but not loud enough for Harriet to hear. Harriet grimaced as the man spread his arms. He was missing his left arm.

The crowd themselves were quite woebegone as well. Some of the crowd looked sceptical, but most seemed hopeful as the man crowed at them. Harriet felt herself shiver, despite the summer heat.

“Must be a soldier,” Dora observed. “This is Legion of Honour Street.”

The Aurors became edgy and started ushering the teens along.

“What’s wrong?” Harriet asked Hercule.

“Zat man is no soldier, he has been on our radar for a couple of weeks,” Hercule explained. “He arrived in Paris shortly after you came to Avalon. He always speaks in Muggle areas, zen uses magical tricks to dazzle and vanish from ze crowds.”

“Shouldn’t you arrest him? That’s a breach of the International Statute of Secrecy.”

“We ‘ave been trying, but ‘ee is very clever. He Disapparates in a puff of smoke, so ze muggles he speaks to simply think he is doing mere Muggle tricks. He speaks to ze poorest and most downtrodden of ze city, magic and Muggle alike. He does not speak of Magique zat we can tell, he simply speaks of ze coming end of an age, and ze rise of a new ‘dark lady’ who will ‘lead the low to rise up and bring ze world into a new age.’ It is madness.”

Harriet’s chest clenched. A new ‘dark lady’? That’s what Crouch, Jr had called her. Did the man down that street work for Crouch, Jr?

Harriet kept mulling this over as they continued on to the cathedral. She pushed that bit of unpleasantness out of her mind when they reached the majestic building. She found herself wishing the Flamels’ chapel looked as grand on the outside. The massive buttresses and steeples were both beautiful and intimidating. She hurried inside with the others, eager to see how faithful Castillon’s reproduction was.

Once inside, Harriet was confused to see the large organ, but Dora assured Harriet that the organ was too recent an addition for Castillon to bother with recreating. This actually made Harriet a little sad. She thought an organ would be a nice addition to the wedding. Didn’t they usually play them at weddings? They always did in movies and television, Harriet thought.

Seeing the inside of the real cathedral finally made Harriet feel a sense of joy. The wedding was here. It was finally here. Mum was about to go from Professor Sinistra to Professor Dusk.

That thought, however, made Harriet almost trip over her own feet. Professor Dusk. Mum was going to go from Aurora Sinistra to Aurora Dusk. The twins probably would change their last names, too. That was something Harriet had not yet thought about. They were going to adopt her. Would her last name change, too? Would she go from Harriet Potter to Harriet Dusk?

Harriet did her best to forget about this thought for the time being and focus on having fun. Castillon had indeed done a marvellous job at recreating the cathedral’s interior. She was even a little disappointed to not see Nicolas and Perenelle’s tombs.

Now pressed for time for the hair appointment, they hurried to their next stop: Auberge Nicolas Flamel. Harriet, who was used to the opulence of Avalon, almost walked right past the small tavern front. It was nondescript and stone, almost blending totally into the surrounding buildings.

“It was first opened in 1407 as a place for travellers and workers to eat and rest,” Dora explained as they looked on the building. “The ground floor’s still a tavern… we’re thinking of having it fixed up, but it’s been low on the business priority list lately.”

“That’s sad,” Marcus said.

“Yeah…” Dora agreed.

They did not go inside or linger. Instead, they hurried along and arrived at the studio. The Flamels had hired some rising stylist named David Mallett. Harriet was surprised to find he was Australian, and very funny. She had expected a Parisian salon to be stuffy and snooty, but David was anything but. She supposed it was helped by the fact he knew Fern, having done her hair on two occasions.

Harriet had to take her glasses off for most of the experience. However, as David cut her hair, Harriet kept seeing the fuzzy shapes of people walking over to Ronnie in the mirror. She furrowed her brow.

“Ack!” David laughed. “Keep still, keep still love.”

“Who are those people?” Harriet asked.

“Them? Agents mostly. Trying to land their next big discovery. Your pretty red-haired friend seems to be making a splash!”

Harriet blinked a few times in surprise. She had a hard time thinking of Ronnie as pretty. Not that she was ugly. Harriet had just never thought that way about her before. To Harriet, Ronnie would always be the girl with short hair, scruffy clothes, and dirt on her nose that she’d almost mistaken for a boy.

As they left his studio, Ronnie had a hard time walking straight. Instead of watching where she was going, she was staring at the handful of business cards she had been given by the agents. She had thrown out the ones Fern had advised her against keeping.

“Why me though?” Ronnie asked, staring down at the cards in disbelief.

Fern smiled. “You’re really tall and slender. It’s the ‘in thing’ right now. Your face is really symmetrical too, even the freckles. And the freckles are a plus, it makes you stand out.”

Ronnie flushed, smiling sheepishly. Dora looped her arm in Ronnie’s and hugged it tightly, giggling.

“See, they wouldn’t give those to a stork. They can see you’re my beautiful crane.”

Fern again gave Hermione a quizzical look, jerking her thump at Ronnie and Dora, mouthing ‘ _what’s with the birds_?’

Harriet barely fought back a giggle. She looked around and stopped dead. She’d just caught sight of her own reflection in a shop window. She stared at herself. Her face felt strange; particularly her freshly plucked eyebrows. Her skin felt silky smooth and brand new from the face mask she’d worn before the haircut.

She looked over her hair. She had taken Fern’s advice and had Mr Mallett cut her hair down to shoulder length. He’d then parted it on the left, giving it flowing tresses. The effect was the hair flowed over the right side of her face, almost covering her right eye. She flushed as she turned her head side to side to study the effect. She felt like an old film star, from the old black and white films Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would stay up to watch.

She felt her lips twitch with laughter as the twins stopped too, posing playfully and blowing kisses at their reflections. Their hair had been styled to match Harriet’s. Harriet wondered if Professor Spring was going to have her hair done the same way. The last she’d seen the school’s Muggle Studies professor, she had short, spiky hair.

Hercule laughed. “Alright, Mam’selles, let us keep moving.”

“Yes, Hercule,” the twins grinned.

“Those two are gonna be trouble,” Fern grinned.

“They already are,” Harriet grinned.

 _“C’est elle_!”

Harriet stopped. Whoever had said that was close. Very close. It sounded like someone had whispered it in her ear. She didn’t recognize the voice. She looked around in confusion. She had heard the voice so clearly.

The rest of the group was still walking. There was plenty of people passing them on the sidewalk, but no one seemed to be paying them any attention.

“ _C’est elle…_ _”_

Harriet spun around. That voice was different, but it was just as close as the first one was. It was more as though she was hearing one of her own thoughts than a voice. But it definitely did not sound like her. What’s more, she didn’t know French.

“Harriet?”

Hercule was looking at her with worry on his face.

_“C’est le seul!”_

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked.

Harriet shook her head. “I’m hearing voices again,” she said. “Like the basilisk!”

Her friends exchanged dark looks.

“We have dallied overlong,” Hercule said, his face growing more urgent. “We are almost to ze cars.”

The group continued in subdued quiet. They reached the cars and quickly hurried inside.

“You think it might be snakes?” Marcus asked, looking down at the ground out the car window.

“Doubt it,” Ronnie said. “A snake would go nuts with all the traffic and people walking here. Snakes hear by vibrations. Only a Parseltongue can properly speak with or hear them.”

“It wasn’t Parseltongue,” Harriet said. “It was similar, but it wasn’t the same, now I think about it. When I heard the basilisk, it was clearly a sound outside my head. I could follow it. But this time it’s like I was the one thinking it.”

“What did the voice say? Was it You-Know-Who?” Kieran asked.

Harriet shook her head. “Don’t know… I don’t think so. I think it was French.”

“What did you hear?”

Harriet thought, remembering. “Voices… saying something like: Say Elle? Say la sull?”

Dora, Camille, and Fern exchanged a glance.

“What…?”

Dora grimaced. “I think you heard: _it’s her, it’s the one_.”

## * * * *

Harriet’s heart was pounding. There was no more waiting. This was it. Her mind was spinning. On the one hand, she was wrapped up in the wedding. On the other, she was trying to process just what had happened.

She had overheard people saying “it’s her” in French. Hadn’t she? Had she imagined it? She hadn’t imagined the basilisk. Not only that, but she didn’t know French. Why would she be imagining something in a language she didn’t know?

Harriet forced her mind back to where she was. She was waiting to join the procession. She was wearing her dress. It was made of chiffon, mulberry, and backless. The neck was a deep vee with a collar that came up around her neck. There was a wide silk wrap around the waist. A long slit ran up the floor length skirt, stopping just above her knee. The shoes were silver, heeled sandals, with little rhinestones running along the straps. She was holding a bouquet of two mulberry roses, surrounded by white baby’s breath.

Harriet swallowed. The music began, making her jump. Nan put a gentle hand on Harriet’s shoulder. Harriet gave her a thankful smile as Gramma Lisa walked into the aisle. Harriet couldn’t see down the aisle from her position, but after a minute, Sirius and Moody stepped out into the aisle. Remus followed right after.

Harriet took some deep breaths. Daddy gave her a reassuring smile before he followed the three into the aisle. She heard a tap and looked down. Castillon was there. He was the officiant of the wedding. Castillon gave her a little wink before he began down the aisle.

After another minute, it was Harriet’s turn. She stepped out and made her way down the aisle. Nan and Rosie were right behind her. Harriet did her best to hold her head high, but her eyes kept being drawn to the people filling the seats. She recognized far more faces than she thought she would.

They were mostly Order members. She felt a pang as she caught sight of Fred. He saw her at the same time. He did his best to give her a little smile. George was there as well, sitting between Fred and Erica.

Harriet put her mind back on walking, not wanting to trip on her dress and make a fool of herself in her parent's wedding. She felt relieved as she took her place on the dais, trying to keep her hands steady. Why was she so nervous? She wasn’t the one getting married. But her future parents were, and her whole life was about to change.

Professor Spring took her spot just in front of Harriet. As she did, their flower-elf and ring-bearer came down the aisle. Snickers was the so-called flower-elf, and he looked positively delighted as he scattered out the white flower-petals. Beauregard was the ring-bearer, and he looked as though he did not nearly enjoy his situation as much as Snickers.

Harriet swallowed again. It was time for Mum and Grampa Zeb to appear. Across the dais, Daddy looked almost faint. Remus gave him a cheerful nudge. Sirius was giving a cheeky wink to Professor Spring. Harriet couldn’t see Professor Spring’s face, but she did note that Professor Spring was standing so as to show as much of her leg through her dress’ slit as possible.

The Bridal Chorus began. Every eye turned. Harriet’s jaw fell a little as Mum came into view.

She looked incredible. Her hair had been curled and was pinned up on the right by a silver bird hairpin that dazzled almost like diamonds. Her veil was thin and Harriet noticed tiny stars on it, surrounding a large, stylised sun that was over Mum’s face. Her dress was white and strapless, hugging Mum’s frame perfectly. The skirt was floor length, with a long train, and was covered by the same lacy, starry fabric as her veil.

Grampa Zeb’s lower lip was trembling, tears running into his white beard. They reached the dais, and Mum sweetly dabbed his eyes for him before he lifted her veil. Mum bent down for him and he softly kissed her forehead. He turned and took Daniel’s hand, squeezing it firmly. The two men looked each other in the eye and nodded before Grampa Zeb walked down to sit with Gramma Lisa. She put her arm around his shoulders as he broke down completely.

Castillon was standing on top of the modified lectern. A little platform had been nailed on top of it so he could stand. He smiled kindly after Grampa Zeb, then spread his little arms wide.

“Welcome, friends and family of the two loving souls before me, here to pledge their lives together in matrimony.”

Castillon took a breath. “We are here to celebrate the love of Aurora and Daniel, and see the making of their family. This summer, I have come to know Aurora and Daniel personally. I have come to respect the commitment that both have to this union, and most especially to their children. I have come to enjoy the cheerful laughter of Aurora’s beautiful daughters, bringing much-needed life and joy to our home. I have come to be inspired by the determination and care in the heart and mind of their soon to be adopted daughter, Harriet Potter. I have come to enjoy the openness and life affirming nature of Aurora’s loving parents.”

Castillon paused, taking another couple deep breaths. “Marriage is many things. Sure, it is a legal process, but that is merely the surface. The meaning of marriage has perhaps become a bit lost, and even in the past was not always done with the best of intentions. In all frankness, marriage was once nothing more than a process for families to increase their power.

“But I… in my very long life… have had the chance to bear witness to the purest of marriages in that of Nicolas and Perenelle. Two young people who bound themselves together in love and marriage that lasted centuries. They found love in each other, and their shared passion for all living things.”

Castillon returned his attention to Daddy and Mum. “And when I see you two, Aurora and Daniel, coming from such different backgrounds, overcoming such hurdles, I see the same love that burned in Nicolas and Perenelle. I see a marriage I know will last, and be full of love. Marriage, as life, is never easy. But I see two who will weather the storms, stand by each other, and show the world what it means to love.”

Grampa Zeb was all but bawling.

“And so, it is time for this loving couple to exchange their vows. I understand that the pair has written their own vows?”

Daddy and Mum nodded.

“Then Daniel, if you please.”

Daddy took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He opened them, taking out a small piece of paper.

“Dearest Aurora, when we met I was lost and alone. I had lost my best friends and the once bright future I'd dreamt of was gone. But then you walked through my door, you smiled at me, you laughed at my jokes, you brought warmth to my heart again. You took my hand and guided me back on the path, a path of love and hope with you. 

“Today, before our friends and family, I solemnly swear to fill your days with sunshine, to comfort and encourage you, to help you reach your dreams and to love, honour, cherish you with all my heart.”

Harriet’s throat was tight, and she was having a hard time seeing. Mum sniffed, also on the verge of tears as she held up her vows.

“My Daniel… by the time I met you, I had accepted my life with my girls and was happy. Then—” Mum giggled “—I walked into your shop. And you were courteous, respectful, and never gave me a feeling of being judged as I told you about my girls. Over the years, you continued to be that same kind gentleman on our dates. You always remembered my girls at Christmas or their birthday. Then Harriet came into your life, and I saw a lost boy become a man, and I knew this was the person I’d been secretly hoping for all along.

“Today—” Mum giggled again through her tears “—before our friends and family, I solemnly swear to be your rock when you need one; your shoulder, your best friend, and to love, honour, and cherish you now and forever.”

There was more than a few sniffles in the audience.

“Please, the rings.”

Beauregard held up his little pillow, bearing the rings. Daddy and Mum both took one. Daddy took Mum’s left hand.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Mum smiled up at him, taking his hand.

“With this ring, I thee wed.”

Castillon spread his arms wide again. “I hereby pronounce you husband and wife. The wedded may kiss.”

Mum and Daddy embraced, their lips meeting passionately. The whole room broke into applause and cheers. Daddy and Mum laughed as they held hands, hurrying back down the aisle. Professor Spring started down after them but gave a shriek of laughter as Sirius caught her and swept her up into his arms bridal style, laughing jovially and carrying her down the aisle.

Harriet felt a pang of jealousy. In that moment, she wanted someone to carry her like that. She wanted someone she could say such loving things about like in her parents’ vows. She wanted that kind of love, too.

## * * * *

The wedding party lingered for a while at the chapel while the rest of the guests headed to the Inn where the reception was being held. The wedding party then climbed into the Flamel cars, which took them to the Inn as well.

Harriet and the rest were through first. The guests cheered them. Harriet blushed as she looked around the room. She caught sight of her friends, which lifted her spirits a little. She looked over at the stage where the slurring, drawling MC was announcing their names.

“Dung!” Sirius laughed. “Who put you in charge of this?”

_Dung?_

“No one, lads!” the man named Dung laughed, his voice a thick Cockney. “Just helped meself!”

“Mundungus Fletcher,” Remus whispered to Harriet. “Don’t think you have had the… pleasure… of his company yet.”

“By the sound of it, he’s already started partying,” Rosie muttered with disapproval.

“That is most likely,” Remus chortled.

They sat at the table. Nan, Harriet, Rosie, Professor Spring, Gramma Lisa, Grampa Zeb, then two chairs for Daddy and Mum, followed by Remus, Sirius, and Professor Moody. Now that the spectacle of the wedding was over, Harriet appreciated how nice Professor Moody looked, compared to his usual grizzled form. She was pleased to see that he had at least attempted to tame his hair, with about the same success as Hagrid, but she appreciated the effort.

Harriet blinked, looking around. Hagrid wasn’t there. How had she not noticed before? She supposed he was more distracted than she thought. Hagrid must still be on his mission. She wondered how well Professor Dumbledore, Professor Stratton and Professor Sutler were doing on their missions.

Daddy and Mum entered now. The crowd cheered again as Fletcher introduced them. They both paused and gave Fletcher slightly quizzical looks before shrugging and waving at him, moving into the middle of the room.

A piano and a violin started playing. Daddy and Mum moved close together and began to dance slowly as a young soprano began to sing. Harriet raised her eyebrows and looked around at the little stage so fast she almost cracked her neck. Dora was on the stage, singing.

_Ave Maria, gratia plena,_

_Maria, gratia plena,_

_Maria, gratia plena,_

_Ave, Ave, Dominus,_

_Dominus tecum._

_Benedicta tu in mulieribus, et benedictus,_

_Et benedictus fructus ventris (tui),_

_Ventris tui, Jesus._

_Ave Maria!_

 

Harriet stared with disbelief. Daddy and Mum were beautiful as they danced to the music, but to finally hear Dora sing, Harriet was dumbfounded. Harriet scanned the crowd. She found Ronnie. Ronnie’s eyes were dazzling. She was leaning on her elbows on her table, her chin in her hands. Harriet knew in that moment that the whole of Avalon could come crashing down on top of them and as long as Dora kept singing, Ronnie would never notice.

 

_Sancta Maria, Mater Dei,_

_Ora pro nobis peccatoribus,_

_Ora, ora pro nobis;_

_Ora, ora pro nobis peccatoribus,_

_Nunc et in hora mortis,_

_In hora mortis nostrae._

_In hora, hora mortis nostrae,_

_In hora mortis nostrae._

_Ave Maria!_

The song and the dance finished. Everyone applauded as Daddy and Mum came to take their places at the table. Daddy and Mum looked out on the crowd, which now fell silent.

“Welcome, everyone!” Daddy said, spreading his arms wide.

“Thank you all so much for coming,” Mum said. “This is such an incredible moment… I know it was not easy to arrange this under the circumstances, but we’re so happy that so many of you could make it.”

The gathered Order members and family all cheered.

“Rora and I… we’ve been through a lot. It wasn’t always easy.”

“Someone was still a bit too into his bachelor’s life for me for a while,” Mum teased, elbowing him.

Daddy laughed. “I was… I was… I was a fool. And Harriet, my beautiful girl, helped me see that.”

Harriet went very red as every eye turned on her now.

“The first time she called me Daddy… I died. In a good way. The boy in me died, and the man in me was born. I knew what I wanted. I wanted a family. I wanted the most incredible, strongest, smartest, beautiful woman in my life forever, and I wanted her girls to be a part of it, and I want Harriet to be a part of it. And now it’s finally happening. And I’m the luckiest man on the face of the earth…”

Daddy broke down. Mum pulled him close and kissed him hard as the crowd roared. Harriet felt herself choking back sobs. It was real. It was truly real. They were married. Now they could adopt her. She had been taken out of the Dursley’s custody. She was going to have a real family.

Daddy and Mum sat as the applause continued. As the din died, little Beauregard clapped his hands together twice and at once food appeared on their plates. Harriet groaned. She hadn’t eaten at all that morning, and now that she was calming down, she was realizing just how hungry she was.

Her plate filled with a stuffed pheasant breast and perfectly cooked asparagus and a baked potato with the insides perfectly fluffed and whipped, covered in sour cream and chives. She groaned audibly, picking up her fork and knife, cutting into the breast and devouring the first bite.

“Hehe, careful, you’ll choke,” Rosie teased.

“Worth it, I’m famished,” Harriet moaned.

The Inn was full of laughter and conversation as people ate. After finishing their plates, Daddy and Mum got up from the table and walked about the gathered guests at their tables, chatting merrily with them. Harriet was perfectly happy to stay where she was. She would have been happier with her friends, but she thought getting up and moving now would draw attention, and perhaps be rude.

After a while, Daddy and Mum returned to the table. As they retook their seats, Grampa Zeb rose, and the room fell silent. Grampa Zeb cleared his throat.

“I’m not much a man for speeches. I’ve always preferred to be the one sitting back and enjoying my wine while others did the work.”

A wave of chuckles swept over the crowd.

“The fact is…” Grampa Zeb sniffled. “I might be the happiest man in the room. I want to say the proudest I’ve ever been in my life was when I held my beautiful baby girl in my arms for the first time. The proudest I’ve ever been after that was when I held my baby girl’s beautiful babes for the first time.”

Grampa Zeb beamed over at the twins who both gave him emotional smiles.

“And yet… I might have to call my proudest moment now,” Grampa Zeb said. “The day I see what an amazing mother and now wife my precious baby has become, and at the same time I gain a son who has astonished me with his dedication and care, and also a beautiful new granddaughter as full of love and life as anyone I’ve ever known.”

The crowd gave out an ‘awwwww’.

“Daniel,” Grampa Zeb continued. “You are an incredible human being. I’ve been wrong about a great many things in my life, but I’ve never been happier to admit I’m wrong than I am now. I never thought I’d meet anyone who would be good enough for our Rora and her sweet ones, but you’ve made me eat that assumption. You are a stand-up gentleman of quality. You stood by your conviction about one of your best friends even though it cost you your career. You built yourself back up to a wonderful, respectable businessman. You took on giving the child of another of your best friends the love and care she’d long been denied. And you made our Rora feel respected and loved, and treated her girls **as** your own.”

Grampa Zeb took a deep breath. “Lisa and I are proud to now call you our son-in-law, and promise that anything you two need, never hesitate to ask. We’re family now, and so we’re whole.”

Daddy rose and crossed to Grampa Zeb. The two men embraced, patting each other’s backs. The room applauded Harriet included.

“’Ere, ‘ere!” shouted the voice of Mundungus Fletcher.

He began tapping his wine-glass, causing a wave of others doing so. Daddy and Mum laughed and Daddy leaned down, Mum rising to meet him in a passionate kiss. The room whooped with cheers. The twins, who were sitting either side of Harriet, giggled behind their hands.

Harriet’s eyes found Fred again. He was the lone person not really cheering. Instead, he was sitting sullen and subdued. Harriet grimaced. Was he still down over her anger about him blackmailing Bagman? Or was Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes not off to the start he’d hoped? Harriet hadn’t thought to ask.

Remus now stood.

“Daniel… you are my best friend. You… you were the one who looked at a sickly, quiet, lonely boy and brought him into the fold. You were the one who, after finding out my terrible affliction, said ‘no, we won’t let him continue being alone. We’ll stand by him whatever it takes.’ We went on adventures together.”

Remus took his own deep breath. “You’ve been more loyal to everyone you know than anyone could ever ask. You gave up your career over Sirius’ false imprisonment. You… you brought me into your home, made me a place where I could be safe during the full moon, and a comfortable bed to sleep in. You gave me a shop where I could create and fix what I’d destroyed. You brought me into your shop, where I could start saving money, so I can afford a home of my own someday. And maybe… I don’t know… settle down…”

Remus’ glanced out at the crowd. Harriet followed his gaze and saw Professor Spring’s friend Tonks, who gave Remus the biggest of winks. Remus swallowed, getting visibly hot under the collar before he resumed his speech.

“Things I never thought I would have… but maybe, just maybe, I might. And now here you are, fulfilling your dream, marrying the love of your life, the only woman I’ve ever met truly good enough for you, and becoming the father her daughters deserve, and also Harriet has always deserved. To you, Daniel!”

“To Daniel!” the crowd called, raising their glasses.

“To Daddy,” Harriet said, blinking and glancing side to side. The twins had said “To Daddy!” as well, and both were grinning at her brilliantly.

Professor Spring stood. She looked a little awkward but smiled radiantly nonetheless. She looked lovely, wearing the same dress as Harriet and the twins, but her hair was somehow spiky, yet still styled. It swooshed down across her forehead in the front, while it was sprayed up in the back.

“Aurora… we haven’t known each other exceptionally long. So I don’t know if I can give the same sort of speech, but in the time that I’ve known you, you’ve been the shining big sister I never had. I’ve teased you a lot since I came back to Hogwarts. You first seemed this stiff, no-nonsense person and it became my mission to break through that wall, as any good little sister should.”

The crowd chuckled and aww’d.

“And then I saw you with your girls for the first time. And I heard what you had done for the American students the year before. And I knew you were someone I wanted in my life. You were someone I could look up to and aspire to be.”

Professor Spring sniffed and Gramma Lisa put a gentle hand on her arm.

“And then I saw you with Daniel, and I knew you two were meant to be together. So I got on that big wagon of all of us on the Hogwarts staff pushing you to settle down with this wonderful man. And I do mean _all_ of us at Hogwarts!”

The crowd laughed. It was then that Harriet noticed there were indeed a few teachers there. She spotted Professor Sprout first, then saw she was sitting with Professor Flitwick and McGonagall. She didn’t see Professor Snape, though she wasn’t sure why she was even looking.

“So I suppose I’m here to speak for all of us at Hogwarts, in how happy we are for you to finally find someone truly deserving of you. We love you, Rora.”

Professor Spring hurried over and hugged Mum tightly. Harriet was distracted catching the sight of Dora hurrying back towards the stage as the band started playing music again.

“Let’s have the first dance!” Fletcher hiccupped.

Grampa Zeb rose from his chair and took Mum’s hand. He led her out onto the dance floor.

“This is a slightly modified version of an old song, a bit more fitting for a dance,” Dora said as the piano and the violinist started.

Harriet became lost again as Dora sang. She listened to the words, watching Mum and Grampa Zeb move around the dance floor. They both looked on the verge of tears and kept speaking softly to each other.

_Mama, where's your pretty little girl tonight?_

_Trying to run before she can walk, that's right_

_She's growing up, she has a young man waiting_

_She's growing up, she has a young man waiting_

_Wide eyes, she'll be street-wise_

_To the lies and the jive talk_

_But she'll find true love_

_And tenderness on the block_

_Daddy, don't you ask her when she's coming in_

_And when she's home don't ask her where she's been_

_She's going out, she has a young man waiting_

_She's going out, can't k         eep her young man waiting_

_She'll be okay, let her have her day_

_'Cause it's a long way, it's a long walk_

_But she'll find true love_

_And tenderness on the block_

_I know how much it hurts to see her go_

_She has a mind of her own, you know_

_She's all grown up, she has a young man waiting_

_She's all grown up, she has a young man waiting_

_She was wide-eyed, now she's street-wise_

_To the lies and the jive talk_

_But she found true love_

_And tenderness on the block_

_She found true love_

_And tenderness on the block_

 

The song and dance finished. Daddy rose and held out a hand to Harriet. Harriet stared a moment, not sure of what was going on.

“Come on, Harricane,” Daddy smiled. “I think this wedding can be forgiven two father-daughter dances…”

Harriet swallowed and took his hand, rising. He guided her out onto the dance floor. The band started up again, this time the song sounded much more familiar to her as Dora began to sing again.

 

 _Here comes the sun, here comes the sun_  
And I say it's all right  
  
Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter  
Little darling, it feels like years since it's been here  


“You are my sun, Harriet,” Daddy said to her softly. “And I’ll always be here for you.”

“You’re mine too, Daddy,” Harriet whispered, hugging him tightly. She was crying now. All of this was real. It was happening. She couldn’t be happier.

 _  
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun  
And I say it's all right  
  
Little darling, the smiles returning to the faces  
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been here_  
  
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun  
And I say it's all right  
  
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes  
  
Little darling, I feel that ice is slowly melting  
Little darling, it seems like years since it's been clear  
  
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun  
And I say it's all right  
Here comes the sun, here comes the sun  
It's all right, it's all right

 

The song and dance finished. The crowd applauded and whistled before moving out onto the dance floor themselves. Dora hopped off the stage, hurrying over to Ronnie, the pair catching each other and Ronnie gasping as Dora dipped her, kissing her passionately.

Harriet moved out of the crowd, looking for her friends. She felt a little frustrated at not being able to find them. Finally, she found Scott, sitting with Camille, chatting.

“There you are,” Harriet said with relief, sitting next to them. “Where’s everyone else?”

“Dancing,” Scott said, gesturing to the crowd.

“Scott was just telling me about your terrible situations,” Camille said, putting a kind hand on Harriet’s. “How awful for you both to have such terrible things happen to those you love.”

Harriet flushed. Did she love Finn? She couldn’t yet. She fancied him, sure. Quite a lot, in fact. Indeed, the only thing that had helped her sleep through the last few nights was practising some of Mum’s ‘secret techniques’ while listening to Finn’s voice.

“Just… wish there was something I could really do for him,” Scott said sadly. “He’s always so dry in his letters ** ~~.~~** He used to be so… so…”

“Romantic?” Camille smiled.

“Heh, yeah,” Scott sighed but managed a smile.

The trio chatted quietly for a while. Harriet felt good to be out of the spotlight. Eventually, her friends all drifted over. Kieran and Fern were first. Kieran could only do slow dances with his leg. The next was Ronnie and Dora, both groaning as they took off their heels.

“Those are bloody murder!” Ronnie declared, tossing her heels onto the table with a clatter. “I don’t know how the rest of you do it.”

“You get used to it,” Fern smiled.

“Hermione and Marcus still out there?” Scott asked.

They looked around. Sure enough, as the band played another slow song, they caught sight of the two dancing. They were very close, Marcus bent down oddly when Harriet realized he and Hermione had their foreheads resting together, talking softly, looking into each other's eyes.

“Lovebirds,” Dora said making a fake gagging noise.

Ronnie laughed rolling her eyes, bumping Dora’s arm with her elbow.

“They do make a cute couple,” Camille observed, smiling warmly. “It is nice to see her feeling so secure with someone. She was so guarded for ze longest time.”

Fern shifted uncomfortably. Kieran gently put a hand on her shoulder.

Harriet was feeling awkward. Terribly so. She caught sight of Fred again. He saw her too, having just gotten some punch. He went red as his hair and tried to turn away. Harriet rolled her eyes and got up, hurrying over to him.

“Fred, wait,” Harriet said, managing to catch his arm.

“Oh, h-hi,” Fred said lamely.

“Fred, we can’t do this,” Harriet said. “We have one more year at Hogwarts together, we’re in the same house on the same Quidditch team, we can’t keep letting this be weird.”

Fred sighed, leaning against the table. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right…”

“We… we had something good… and now…”

Fred sighed again. “Harriet, it’s alright. I’m just… I’m trying not to be weird… I guess it’s making me act weird… but I don’t want you thinking about what a piece of shite I was last year on a day like today. And after what happened to your bloke, Finn… I’m not a prat enough to… yeah.”

“Oh, Fred,” Harriet said. “I don’t think that about you. You couldn’t have known, and you were the one being wronged. I…”

“No, you’re right. It was wrong of me. Sure I bend and break rules, but that was the law. And I’m better than that. You helped me see that. So… I guess… even if I blew it… I’m a better person now.”

Fred gave her a warm smile. “Thanks, Harriet. You really are an incredible person. I hope you find Finn, I really do. He’s a laugh. And you deserve all the laughs in the world.”

“Th-thanks,” Harriet stuttered. This had not at all gone the way she’d expected.

Fred gave Harriet a gentle hug before taking his punch and heading off into the crowd. Harriet was left standing there, staring after him, trying to process what Fred said.

“That were bootiful, it was,” said the now recognizable voice of Mundungus Fletcher.

He was pouring himself a glass of wine, his hand shaking a bit, wavering slightly.

“I… thanks… and… I think you’ve had enough,” Harriet cautioned.

“Dahh, this old body o’ mine’s got a few drinks left in it,” Mundungus chuckled. “By the by, need to tell yeh, Bart is awfully sorry about that business with Sebastian.”

Harriet’s throat tightened, and her eyes widened.

“See, Bart has it in his head you’re to be the next Dark Lady. And he has a point. He’s been travelling Europe, telling people all about you. They really seem to be listening.”

Harriet was trembling. Fletcher’s voice had changed. He no longer sounded drunk, his voice no longer raspy. He wasn’t swaying, instead was standing perfectly casual, sipping his wine.

“We’d been watching Grimmauld Place. Bart’s little cronies had seen plenty of Order members moving about the area. We didn’t think much of it until we saw Dr Sebastian Bishop coming and going. Now, who in the Order would need a magical psychiatrist, we asked ourselves. Well, no one. No one but Harriet Potter, that is.”

Harriet leaned against the table. It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be him. Not here. Not now. How?

“So I decided to do a little digging and found myself an in: Mundungus Fletcher. He’s perfect! He’s a crook! Everyone’s already used to him acting suspicious! I’ve been him for a little while now, since a little after we think you managed to escape here, so I’d really appreciate you not telling anyone, for old time’s sake. And if that’s not enough, I have a gift for you. But I’ll only give it to you if you promise not to tell anyone that I’m Fletcher. If you do, I won’t give you this note, and bad things will happen. You know how bad…”

Harriet shuddered and coughed as she felt a dry heave.

“I’ll take that as a yes. See… I didn’t sanction Bart’s little foray into Sebastian’s home. He was duly punished for it by Sebastian himself of course. Threw him through a wall, apparently. He’s lucky, I let that stand as punishment in lieu of taking one of his toes.”

Harriet’s knees were shaking. The last time she heard that voice, it was threatening to kill Dudley.

_“Shall I kill him, too? Normally I wouldn’t ask, but since he’s your family I thought it only fair.”_

_“No! Leave him alone!”_

_“As you wish, Harriet Potter. The debt is repaid.”_

“So, that’s when I decided to do some more snooping. Turns out that Sebastian has made it to Northmoor Hill Nature Reserve. He’s living in an old chalk quarry. Plenty of birds to eat there. This is the exact location.”

Harriet was staring down at the table. As she watched, Fletcher’s hand slid a piece of parchment into view.

“Consider this an apology from a _very_ sorry little Bart. Amazing to watch him work. You saw him today apparently, preaching to the masses. I don’t know much of his rhetoric I believe personally, but—”

Harriet was heaving. She felt sick. Her arms were shaking. She was starting to hear screaming.

“—if you do want to keep your new family and loved ones safe… it wouldn’t hurt to have an army at your disposal, would it, Dark Lady?”

Harriet sank to her knees. She hugged her chest tight. She saw it all again. She saw the torn bodies. She felt their blood. She heard their screams.

“Farewell, Harriet Potter. Till we meet again.”

She felt their hands on her. She felt the helplessness wash over her. She saw the knife in Piers’ hand. Harriet reached up, grabbed her hair as hard as she could, and screamed.


	11. Aftermath

“The right thing is rarely the easy thing. The world is too full of colour for black and white.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

The party did not stop at once when Harriet screamed. The talking and music slowly faded out. It felt like the world was slowly grinding to a halt. There was a few seconds of silence before she heard their terrified voices cry her name. Daddy and Mum all but threw people out of their way to get to her.

Harriet told. The moment Daddy and Mum reached her, she told them. It was Solomon Kinney. Mundungus Fletcher was really Solomon Kinney. He’d been Fletcher for weeks.

How could she not tell? Not after Rita. She was never letting anyone hold something over her again. Her panic all at once became absolute clarity as she looked up into Daddy’s and Mum’s faces.

Avalon was on total lockdown. Aurors were everywhere. Guests were being questioned. It was a total disaster. Such a beautiful day was ruined.

They were back in the big house. Harriet, Daddy, and Mum were sitting on chairs in the middle of the entrance hall. There was a ring of Aurors armed with Secrecy Sensors and Sneakoscopes encircling them.

Harriet was still trembling. Solomon Kinney was there. Solomon Kinney was at the wedding. Solomon Kinney had acted as the MC.

There was a flash of red in the corner of her vision. Harriet gave a squeak of fright and threw herself against Daddy’s side. He and Mum hugged her tight. Harriet glanced over and felt shame rise in her. It had just been the inside of the sleeve of an Auror’s robe. It had looked like blood.

Harriet sat up again, looking around, trying to calm her nerves. Professor McGonagall was nearby, talking with Commandant Marceau. Neither looked very happy.

Especially not Commandant Marceau, who had Mr Flamel raging at her angrily in French. Harriet knew no French, but she didn’t think she needed to. Mr Flamel stormed out of the house, throwing up his hands in frustration. Mrs Flamel followed, speaking in a calming voice to him.

“We were foolish,” Commandant Marceau admitted, walking back over.

“As were we,” Professor McGonagall agreed. “Whatever Sherrod and Albus said about Mundungus’ reliability and usefulness, he was too weak a link.”

“A man’s probably dead, Minerva,” Sirius snarled.

Professor McGonagall sighed. “You are right, Sirius. Mundungus Fletcher was a petty thief, but he did not deserve whatever fate he has suffered or will suffer. But now is not the moment. Now we have to figure out just how much Solomon Kinney knows.”

“Probably everything, knowing him,” Sirius replied with resignation.

“Luckily, we didn’t include Fletcher in much,” Remus added. “But still, too much…”

“How can he keep doing this? How is he always one step ahead?!” Daddy snarled.

Gramma Lisa cleared her throat.

“Since arriving, I have had the chance to be privy to a lot of what has been going on behind the scenes here regarding this Solomon Kinney. If I’m not mistaken, by the sound of it you are all in disarray. The British Ministry, your Order, even Lord Voldemort—” Professor McGonagall flinched “—and even the problems back home in America. Solomon Kinney is a hunter. You all are his prey, and chaos is his best ally.”

Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes but did not seem upset. Instead, she seemed to be contemplating these words, and while she didn’t like them, she seemed to agree.

“Yes… Albus said something similar in his last correspondence…”

“Divide and conquer,” Grampa Zeb added, sadly. “It’s how the Secessionists got so far. They divided areas that the MACUSA couldn’t unify. They struck areas we thought were safest: the east coast, the mid-west, Muggle areas...”

“They’re exactly right.”

Captain Kane was here. He was walking with Hercule. They strode past the guards as though they weren’t there.

“That’s what Solomon Kinney is doing to you,” Captain Kane said. “It’s a common tactic we used in the AirCav. We’d reconnoitre; find weaknesses in the line. Then we’d hit them. It’s what I taught underground forces to do after Bakersfield.”

Captain Kane’s eyes scanned the group. “Chaos. You hit with a small force with immense firepower and surprise. The enemy can’t pinpoint your location. Then you hit them at another spot. More chaos. That is what Solomon Kinney has been doing. And he’s a goddamned maestro, which is a big problem for us.”

“What do you suggest?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“For one thing, you stayed in one spot too long,” Captain Kane replied. “You gave him ample opportunity to pin you down.”

Daddy was staring off in thought. “So, we have to keep moving…”

“It’s what I’d normally suggest. If Kinney found you, Lord Voldemort can’t be far behind. And as we’ve seen, Lord Voldemort’s intentions for Harriet are probably more sinister than Kinney’s…”

“It’s almost like the fucker’s warning us,” Sirius growled. “Like he’s taunting us… like a cat playing with a mouse.”

“Basically, yes. That being said, now we’re aware that the position is compromised, I think moving Harriet now is too big a risk.”

Everyone looked at Captain Kane with confusion. “It’s what they’ll be expecting, I would guess. It’s what I would expect. Like flushing a rabbit out of a den. You can’t quite get to the rabbit, so you scare it out.”

“Speak plainly, won’t you,” Sirius grumbled.

Professor McGonagall spoke up. “The Captain means that we should remain in place for now. Move when we see an opportunity. While one hunter may have found his target, rushing out blindly could make us play right into his hands. In the meantime, Avalon can be fortified. Am I correct, Captain.”

“Yeah, that,” Captain Kane said. He shrugged. “Sorry, used to talking to my men, making speeches to whip up morale.”

The group fell quiet.

“So, in the meantime, what do we do about zis Solomon Kinney and Bartemius Crouch and zeir forces?” Hercule asked.

“I do not think there is much,” Commandant Marceau said. “Unless…”

“Yes?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“A decoy again,” Commandant Marceau said. “We send out a group to give ze appearance zat Harriet Potter has left Avalon.”

Hercule grinned. “Ah, I like it, Commandant! We use Solomon Kinney’s own tool against him.”

“Précisément. We will wait two days, zen bring Polyjuice Potion.”

“What?” Harriet asked.

“We will send Aurors disguised as your party back to Britain,” Commandant Marceau said. “We will give the appearance you have returned early.”

“Kinney might suspect it,” Daddy warned.

“We must do something,” Mum said, putting a comforting hand on Daddy’s shoulder.

At that moment, a Sneakoscope squealed. Aurors spun around and levelled their wands on Castillon, Snickers, and Beauregard.

“Peace, dear Aurors,” Castillon said.

“They’re cleared,” Captain Kane said.

Castillon smiled. “Thank you, Captain Kane. I’m here to report that it seems Solomon Kinney escaped via the river. The grate covering the western entrance has been torn off completely.”

Captain Kane nodded. “Sounds about right… he had to know he’d be found out. Why the hell did he do this? It’s almost… it’s downright reckless.”

Harriet was studying at Castillon. It sounded as though he was reporting to Captain Kane. He caught her looking and simply gave her a sympathetic look.

He turned, beckoning to the other two elves. They followed him, Beauregard then Snickers in tow. As Castillon passed the Sneakoscopes, they whistled again. Castillon gave them a confused look, before shrugging and continuing on, Beauregard and Snickers looking after him as though ready to catch him if he fell.

“Now, the big question,” Daddy said, “is what do we do with this note?”

Professor McGonagall took it, studying it carefully.

“You think it’s legit, or a trap?”

Professor McGonagall did not reply right away.

“As much as I hate to admit it, I think this is likely legitimate.”

“How?”

“If Solomon Kinney truly wanted to cause harm, he could have done it at will during the reception.”

“But why would he find Sebastian for Harriet?” Daddy asked.

Professor McGonagall shook her head. “I cannot say. As is often the case, the only person who can truly answer these questions is Solomon Kinney himself.”

## * * * *

Two days had passed. It was almost midnight now. Harriet wasn’t in bed. She was standing on her balcony, leaning over her railing, watching the gate. The Order had headed out to find Sebastian, and the decoy force had set off with Aurors disguised as Harriet and her family and friends.

Harriet was anxious to see how the search for Sebastian went. She wanted Sebastian back safe, not just for her sake. He was a good person. He didn’t deserve that.

Harriet digested what Solomon Kinney had told her. It was Crouch, Jr who had gone after Sebastian. She supposed they wanted information on her. He would have a lot. So many of Harriet’s secrets.

Hedwig hooted softly, settling on the railing beside Harriet. Harriet scratched her head, Hedwig twittering in appreciation.

Harriet pondered her situation. Professor Dumbledore was gone. Professor Howe was gone. Finn was still missing. Sebastian was hopefully about to return.

Harriet glowered. Now, stupidly, she felt like she owed Kinney a little. She didn’t owe him anything. She hadn’t asked him for the information on Sebastian. Yet, she was going to be happy to see him safe. To get back at least a little something she’d lost this year.

Harriet was trying not to worry. She was thinking about what Scott had told her on the Eiffel Tower. She wasn’t trying to forget about the bad things, but she was trying her hardest to focus on the positives.

Kinney was still out there. Crouch, Jr was still out there. Lord Voldemort and his cronies were still out there. But Sebastian was coming back. That’s what counted.

Then there was the curious incident with Castillon the day of the wedding. He’d set off the Sneakoscopes, and seemed overly familiar with Captain Kane. Was he spying for Captain Kane? He wasn’t an enslaved elf. He could do whatever he likes, but, why would he?

Harriet started as the gate clanked. Harriet leaned over to get the best look she could. One of the Flamel cars came pulling through the gate. Then another, and another. They were followed by a long car, which was white with a red cross on the top.

An ambulance.

Harriet hurried into her room, grabbed her broomstick, and sprinted back onto the balcony. Hedwig gave a shriek and fluttered as Harriet flung herself over the railing. She swung her broomstick down under her, landing on it and rocketing to the ground.

The second car screeched to a halt and the door opened, Daddy climbing out. Harriet was too excited to let the look of fury on his face stop her.

“Harriet!” Daddy bellowed, storming over.

“Did you find him?”

“What did I tell you about leaving the house alone?”

“Did you find him?”

Daddy’s anger slowly abated as the rest of the Order got out.

“Yes, Harriet, we found him,” Daddy sighed.

“Is he still feral?”

“No,” Daddy slowly smiled. “We got him calmed down. Hannah and Clemence did, anyway.”

“Clemence?”

Harriet saw some people approaching. She recognized one first. It was Hannah, Sebastian’s ex-wife. The other took Harriet a second longer to remember. It was the sight of her completely out of context that threw her the most.

It was Mrs Hoffman, the mother of one of Harriet’s dorm mates, Tori. Her late-husband Arnold had been the one who led all the Americans to safety after their town was attacked before Harriet’s second-year.

“Mrs Hoffman?” Harriet asked.

Mrs Hoffman smiled down at Harriet, sadly. “Hello, Harriet. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

Mrs Hoffman and Hannah gave each other serious looks.

“Take care of him,” Hannah said.

“I will,” Mrs Hoffman said.

Harriet looked up at Daddy. He gave her a pained smile and started guiding her to the ambulance, away from the two women. Harriet prepared herself, taking a deep breath.

They were taking Sebastian out of the back on a stretcher. Harriet grimaced at the sight. He was lying back on the stretcher. His hair was matted and full of burrs and bits of tree bark. His fur smelled terrible.

His big green eyes found Harriet and he gave her a sad smile. “Ah, there you are. I… admit I’d rather hoped you’d not see me like this…”

“I had to know you were okay,” Harriet said. “I’ve been worried sick about you…”

Sebastian continued to smile sadly. Harriet was sure if he was not so furred, he would be blushing.

“I’m sorry… Harriet...” Sebastian grimaced. “What you must think of me…”

“I think you managed to escape a crazy mob,” Harriet said, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Sebastian gave a little sigh of relief and lay back on the bed. He closed his eyes, seeming to finally relax.

“He is in a bad way, mam’selle,” Hercule said.

“Yes… birds aren’t exactly filling,” Sebastian sighed “and feathers don’t settle too well.”

“Especially since you’re still half-human, so diseases that you would be immune to as a cat still affect you,” said Healer Smethwyck, checking Sebastian’s pulse.

“Lucky I have a good friend and healer about,” Sebastian chuckled.

“I’d say the best luck you have is a good sense of humour,” Healer Smethwyck retorted. “Let’s get him inside. He needs bed rest and a myriad of potions.”

Sebastian gave another sigh of resignation. “Very well, Hippo, very well. Let’s get on with it then.”

“You’re sure he’s going to be okay,” Harriet asked, bouncing up and down on the balls of her feet.

“Yes, he’s going to be just fine,” Healer Smethwyck said, nodding to Mrs Hoffman as she joined them.

Harriet narrowed her eyes as she watched the smile that Sebastian and Mrs Hoffman shared. Harriet was at Mr Hoffman’s memorial service. It wasn’t that long ago. There was clearly something going on here.

Daddy put an arm around Harriet’s shoulder.

“Back to bed, you…”

“…Are you gonna lock my balcony door at night, now?”

Daddy rolled his eyes. “No…”

“But you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

“…Well, _now_ I am…”

“Hey!”

## * * * *

Sebastian was too ill to see Harriet right away. She was just happy to have him back. Knowing that he was no longer in danger because of her was proving to be a considerable weight off her mind.

The most awkward part was Mrs Hoffman coming and going. Something about it was suspicious to Harriet. For instance, why wasn’t Tori visiting, too? Harriet would have liked to see her.

Having her friends was the biggest help. They did their best to keep her busy with Quidball, and another campfire the following night. Harriet supposed she liked the campfire the best. It was so relaxing, and that was something Harriet felt she desperately needed.

The only lingering worry Harriet had was Kinney’s threat. She did know what he was capable of. She still couldn’t bring herself to intentionally think about the horrors.

Scott and Hermione said he was just trying to intimidate her. He was making a show. Now that they were on to him, and the French Aurors knew to check anyone coming and going, even if they were listed as ‘safe,’ Kinney was unlikely to try anything so audacious again.

There was also the fact that his information had been correct. He hadn’t hurt Sebastian (that Harriet could tell). He’d found him, and let her and the Order know where he was. He could have used Sebastian for information, or as a hostage, but he hadn’t. Harriet was trying not to think about it, but she couldn’t help it niggling at the back of her mind. What was Solomon Kinney up to?

In the meantime, Harriet was keeping a close eye on Castillon. She’d made a point of trying to get close to him and checking her bracelet from Fred, which acted as a silent Sneakoscope. To her consternation, it never went totally red when around him. It would go almost pink, but never red. Which was surprising, given how strongly the Sneakoscopes had gone off.

“Just leave him be,” Scott cautioned her after she risked confiding in him. “He’s old, and he probably keeps a _lot_ of secrets for the Flamels.”

“That’s the thing… the way he reported to Captain Kane…” Harriet explained.

“Well, maybe Captain Kane is working closely with the Flamels?”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Since when are you this not-suspicious? You were the one who almost drove yourself crazy our third year trying to figure out Sirius.”

Scott shrugged. “I just don’t think there’s anything to worry about from Castillon. Why are _you_ so suspicious of him?”

Harriet tried to think.

Scott sighed. “Harriet… I know it’s kind of easy to distract yourself… but you have a lot of healing to do.”

“I’m not distracting myself!”

Scott raised an eyebrow.

“Well… maybe… a _little_ … but I haven’t had my therapy… now I don’t even seem to have Occlumency…”

“You have us,” Scott said, giving her a sad smile.

Harriet slumped. “Sorry…”

“Hey, not criticising. Just letting you know. Shite’s about to get crazy… we need to stick together.”

“Better than we did last year…”

“ _Especially_ better than we did last year,” Scott agreed.

They paused as Beauregard hustled past. He was grumbling in squeaky French.

“Bonjour,” Scott said.

Beauregard paused, looking around spying them. He gave them a tepid little wave. Harriet returned it but paused with her hand still in the air. Her bracelet was red.

Beauregard ambled off, muttering again. Harriet kept watching her bracelet. It slowly faded back to silver.

Scott was watching the bracelet, too. The pair exchanged a look.

“Okay, so maybe it wasn’t Castillon who set the Sneakoscopes off…?” Harriet asked.

Scott rolled his eyes. “You’re hopeless…”

“I prefer _dedicated_ , thank you.”

Scott fell back in his chair, laughing.

## * * * *

To Harriet’s delight, that night she finally got to see Sebastian. Not as a therapist, but just to talk with him. Despite this, she wasted little time in telling him about her freak-out at the reception.

“Ah, Harriet, of course not…” Sebastian said, his ears drooping sadly. “The experience was much too recent and traumatic for you to be over with so soon.”

Harriet hugged her chest a little.

“The living, breathing embodiment of something awful in your life was talking to you after taking you totally off guard,” Sebastian soothed. “Of course you panicked. Of course, you couldn’t get those images out of your head.”

Sebastian sighed, looking up at the ceiling. “The timing of those ruffians’ attack could not have been worse for you… I’m sorry, Harriet… so very sorry.”

“No, I’m the one who’s sorry,” Harriet said. “They wouldn’t have gone after you if not for me!”

“Oh, Harriet, please do not add this to your burdens!” Sebastian insisted. “I know that is a tall order, given how empathetic you are, but you have enough on your plate already. You are not responsible for the actions of those like Lord Voldemort or Solomon Kinney and their ilk… You are responsible for _you_. How you respond to things is entirely your own. It’s the piece of life you can control and always know you control. Use it as your rock.”

Harriet grimaced, “Lately I’ve just been trying to pretend this stuff never happened…”

Sebastian nodded. “An understandable reaction, but not recommended.”

“Scott told me I shouldn’t, either.”

Sebastian chuckled. “He sounds like a sharp one.”

“Yeah, he and Hermione are best in our year…” Harriet said. “Maybe the school. Anyway… I’m so happy you’re okay.”

Sebastian smiled softly. “Thank you, Harriet. The care I’ve received since being recovered has been touching…”

“So, are you coming back to Britain with us?” Harriet asked. “We go back in a week.”

Sebastian’s smile faltered. “I… Unfortunately, Harriet, I will probably not be able to return to Britain for some time.”

“Why not?” Harriet asked.

Sebastian’s furry lips tightened. “I’m afraid the Ministry is not terribly happy with me for the trouble I have caused. They’re looking for distractions, and unfortunately, a psychologist who is half-cat and worked far too closely with Muggles for the current Ministry’s liking is too good to pass up.”

Harriet clenched her fists. “I don’t get it… how is everyone fighting each other like this? Why won’t the Ministry just accept the obvious?”

“People are difficult to change when they get comfortable, Harriet,” Sebastian explained. “They don’t want to accept they have to watch their backs again… they don’t want to accept that their closest friends and neighbours could be turned to evil… they don’t even want to accept that You-Know-Who even existed. We won’t even say his name.”

Harriet sat back in her chair, digesting that.

“You can say his name, Harriet,” Sebastian smiled. “You’re not afraid. When we can start our therapy again, I want you to channel that bravery into our sessions. It takes bravery to confront the fact that such terrible things have happened to you, and rise above them. That’s not to say those who succumb to them aren’t brave… many just do not realize the truth of the matter. Too many are taught bravery is just sweeping it all under the rug and pretending you’re stronger than it. I aim to fix that… if I can… but you have to find that strength in you. It’s in your desire to know the truth, your desire to do the right thing. Channel it, when we’re ready, into finding the truth in yourself and doing right by yourself.”

Harriet thought on this. She thought about Castillon and Beauregard. Sure, it was a distraction, but something was wrong. She had to make it right. What would make her feel better than solving a mystery?

## * * * *

Harriet made up her mind at once to do more snooping. That night, she took out her invisibility cloak, grateful that Daddy had still not confiscated it. She dressed again, put on her shoes, and was just about to throw her cloak up over herself when there was a knock on her door.

Panic set in at once. If it was Daddy or Mum, she was in big trouble. Harriet slowly started backing towards her bed, ready to jump under the covers, when the handle turned.

“Harriet?”

Harriet almost slumped to the floor in relief. It was Fern.

“Yeah! Yeah, come in.”

Fern stepped inside. She was carrying a large manila envelope.

“What’s up?” Harriet asked. “What’s that?”

“Are you sneaking out again?”

“Kind of…” Harriet admitted.

“It’s from Holly,” Fern muttered holding up the envelope.

“Your friend? The footballer?”

“Former,” Fern corrected. “On both counts. I think… maybe only the second one. Can we talk?”

“I guess,” Harriet said. “Don’t you want to talk with Hermione?”

Fern sighed crossing her arms. “I don’t really want to talk about it with her… I’m worried it’ll bring up more bad feelings and show what a shite friend I am.”

“O-okay,” Harriet said, sitting on her bed.

“Thanks,” Fern said, walking over.

“So, what did it say?” Harriet asked.

Fern grimaced. “It’s an apology… and something else…”

Fern handed Harriet the letter. She took it, reading.

 

_Dear Fern,_

_I know you feel I overstepped my bounds regarding your addictions. But, I didn't want to lose you like I did Damien. A Muggle friend of mine died from similar addictions._

_I haven't been able to talk about it because it hurts too much to remember him. So, I apologize if you felt ganged up on when the group confronted you. You mean a lot to them, and to me, and I hope you can see it in your heart to forgive me._

_In addition, prompted by Krystelle and Finn, I had my contacts look into that modelling agency. Enclosed are legal documents you can use in court, should you seek independence from your mother. There are also documents pertaining to money you can get from the agency and your mother, should you seek it, in reparation for the pain and any other side effects caused by medications and/or if you seek healing from your addictions._

_I'm so sorry to hear about Finn. We have pulled all our resources here to look for him, but haven't had much luck. Hopefully, Sirius is able to find him, as our investigators left the search in his and his house elf's hands._

_I hope you can forgive me. And that we can patch up our friendship when we return for our fifth years of education at Hogwarts. Give my best regards to the others if you hear from them._

_With Love,_

_Holly A. Cambridge_

 

“Wow,” Harriet said. “She definitely cares…”

“Too much,” Fern muttered.

“She sounds kinda stuffy,” Harriet said re-reading the letter.

Fern snorted. “Yeah, she’s got an ego…”

“She found out about you and the pills?”

Fern sighed flopping back on Harriet’s bed. “Yes…”

“What happened?”

Fern glowered. “They all cornered me… told me how worried they were and thought I was going to get myself killed or something,” Fern sat up again. “Only one who didn’t join them was Finn.”

Harriet chewed her lip. She didn’t know what to say. She wondered how she would react if her friends cornered her about something.

“Finn just took me aside one day… said he was worried, and if I ever needed him he’d be there. No judgements. Finn… just… your godfather _better_ find him…”

Harriet looked down at the letter again. “Wait, how does she know that Sirius and Kreacher are looking for Finn?”

Fern shrugged. “Holly’s family’s connected. Her mum’s an Auror and all.”

“Really? Huh…”

“Yeah…”

The pair fell silent. Harriet was oddly touched. Fern could have talked to anyone about this, but she chose Harriet.

“So,” Fern asked, looking Harriet over. “What’s tonight’s adventure?”

Harriet twisted her lips. “I think Beauregard’s up to something.”

“Reeeeeeeeeeally?” Fern asked, her eyes lighting up with interest.

“…You want to come, too?”

Fern’s face began to glow with excitement.

## * * * *

“This is so trippy,” Fern hissed in Harriet’s ear as the Firebolt floated to the ground. They had to take the balcony, the front doors were still guarded with Aurors, Secrecy Sensors, and Sneakoscopes.

“Shhh,” Harriet shushed. “Don’t you ever fly brooms?”

“No, Mum wouldn’t let me have one because I could get hurt and ruin my career.”

They landed and Harriet swung the cloak up over them both.

“Whoa!” Fern grinned, feeling the fabric with her fingers. “This feels amazing.”

“Shhh,” Harriet hissed again, then remembered Castillon pointing out he could see her feet. “Walk low like this. It’s not big enough for us both without stooping.”

“Got it,” Fern whispered. “Where are we going first?”

Harriet thought. Where was Beauregard likely to live? She supposed she should ask Castillon. He had his shop in the big house, but he lived in the chapel.

“To the chapel,” Harriet answered. “We’ll ask Castillon.”

The pair struck out, making sure to walk on grass for quieter footsteps.

“So you like… don’t actually have a plan, do you?”

“Not really,” Harriet whispered back. “I mostly kinda wing this stuff.”

Fern giggled. “No wonder Finn likes you.”

Harriet rolled her eyes, but secretly, she was quite flattered.

They moved as quickly as they could across the grounds without making noise.

“We do stuff like this at Rathlin all the time,” Fern whispered. “Just without the cloak. Straight up jealous.”

“Shhh!”

“What, this is fun!”

Harriet fought off another eye-roll. They continued on to the chapel.

“Damn,” Harriet hissed, testing the handle. “It’s locked.”

“What do we do now?”

“I don’t know,” Harriet muttered.

Unable to carry it under the cloak, they had left her _Firebolt_ behind, so they wouldn’t be able to try any windows.

Harriet thought, looking up at the door. Finally, her mind settled on a crazy thought. Crazy for Harriet, anyway. She knocked.

“What are you doing?” Fern gasped.

Harriet knocked again. She didn’t know if Castillon would hear it, but it was almost the same time of night as the last time she’d come here. He was probably awake at Nicolas and Perenelle’s tombs.

They waited for what felt like minutes. Neither girl moved or said a word. She was sure Castillon wouldn’t rat her out. Not if she was actually trying to get to the bottom of something.

Finally, Harriet felt she had to give up. Castillon must be asleep. She looked at Fern when with a deep, resonating click noise, the door unlatched. Despite only being the size of a normal door, it pulled open slowly, as though it weighed many hundreds of pounds.

Harriet looked down. Wearily, the aged little elf Castillon stepped into view.

“Out again, Miss Potter?” Castillon chortled.

“Yes,” Harriet said. “I want to talk to you.”

“And this could not be done during a normal waking hour?”

“No… it’s important and needs to be kinda secret…”

“I see,” Castillon said, rubbing his little wispy bearded chin. “Well, come along inside and get out from under that old cloak.”

Castillon turned meandering back into the chapel. Harriet and Fern exchanged another glance and followed him inside. The door shut on its own behind them.

Harriet and Fern lifted off the cloak. She felt a sense of relief as it came off, breathing in the cool air of the cathedral interior.

“Ah-hah, I wondered who the other was,” Castillon said looking up at Fern. “Welcome to my home. So, what brings you out at this hour?” Castillon asked.

“I wanted to ask you some more questions.”

Castillon chucked. “But of course. I suppose that wasn’t my smartest question.”

Harriet twisted her lips in impatience. “This is important…”

“Yes, Harriet Potter. You tend to wrap yourself up in issues of importance,” Castillon observed. “Indeed, you yourself are a great matter of importance. Shall we sit down?”

Castillon snapped his fingers. As with the first night she snuck out and talked to Castillon, armchairs appeared. There were three this time, two Harriet and Fern’s size, and one for little Castillon. They sat, Harriet unable to help stretching out a little.

“Now then… what question is this?” Castillon asked. “Rather, what questions are these?”

Harriet twisted her lips again. “Well… there is a few…”

“Proceed,” Castillon smiled.

“Are you working with Captain Kane?”

Harriet wasn’t sure why she asked this question first. She supposed it was because she wanted to clear up what might be the most important matter, first.

Castillon smiled placidly. “Well of course. The Flamels are working with him, and so I am as well.”

Harriet blinked. She hadn’t expected the answer that readily.

“The Captain is here in Europe heading an International Confederation of Wizards mission. Mr Flamel has strong interests in a stable Britain… as does the rest of magical Europe. Mr Flamel is cooperating and aiding this mission as much as he can. _Furthermore_ , as America is spearheading this mission, and the Flamel enterprises have a vested interest in keeping the MACUSA’s business, we are going above and beyond to cooperate. Captain Kane may come and go from the premises as he wishes.”

Harriet shook her head. The number of layers to this was baffling.

“So, the French Magic police people don’t know how close you’re working with the Americans?”

“Not at all,” Castillon said placidly.

“That’s crazy,” Fern said.

Castillon shrugged. “This is war, young ladies. Nothing about this is simple. There is a war in the Americas. There is a war brewing right under our feet here in Europe. Conflict is something you humans excel at.”

Harriet and Fern exchanged awkward looks.

Castillon took a deep breath. “I have seen what Muggles did to the magical world to drive them into hiding. I have seen the atrocities committed on Muggles by the likes of Grindelwald and the Death Eaters.”

Castillon leaned back in his chair. “And from here… we watched the horrors of the Muggles’ last two great wars… the World Wars…”

“I read about those…” Fern said.

“Words will never do it justice. You know there are simple farmers today that are maimed or killed while ploughing their fields and hitting artillery from the first World War… such a war is going on in America, now,” Castillon turned sad eyes on the girls. “And we, the Flamels, want very much to keep such conflict from coming to our shores.”

“I see…” Harriet said, scratching her cheek.

Castillon smiled wearily. “Now I’ve answered your first question, shall we try another?”

Harriet thought. She was a bit taken aback at how forthcoming Castillon was on that point, to the extent she’d almost forgotten why else she’d snuck out.

“We think Beauregard’s up to something,” Fern said.

Castillon’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t say…?”

“Yeah,” Harriet agreed, remembering. “It was him who set off the Sneakoscopes, wasn’t it? The night of the wedding?”

Castillon now raised his eyebrows. He said nothing, his large eyes moving back and forth between the girls’ faces. Harriet could tell he was thinking fast.

“He is up to something, isn’t he?” Harriet asked. “Something bad?”

“I… I cannot tell you that, Harriet Potter,” Castillon said. “Beauregard is doing what he thinks is best for all.”

“What’s he doing?” Harriet pressed.

Castillon sighed. “Your nosiness is going to get you in trouble someday, Harriet Potter…”

Harriet closed her eyes, thinking. Yes, she was nosy. But Castillon was being evasive. He’d freely volunteered to spy for the Americans. What about Beauregard was making him so cagey?

“I can tell you are not satisfied with this,” Castillon continued. “This is a painful subject for me, Harriet Potter. You seem to have a knack for finding them.”

“Why is it painful?” Harriet said. “I’ve found it’s way harder to keep secrets than be honest…”

Castillon chuckled. “That is most wise for your age, young miss. But what can I do…? What is the correct choice? Beauregard stands in the way of progress because he’s afraid it will cost him everything… and likely it will, while in my opinion, he’s merely delaying the inevitable. Conversely… I despise what mankind has done to mine… but am I to crush someone I count a dear friend…? Old as I am, Harriet Potter… I do not know the way out between this rock and a hard place I’ve found myself between.”

Harriet blinked. Castillon was looking at her significantly. He was trying to tell her something. Frustration was setting in.

_Stupid Legilimency,_ Harriet thought, _just when I could use you…_

Guilt settled in. Harriet shouldn’t want to see into people’s minds. That wasn’t right. She wasn’t like Lord Voldemort. She shouldn’t rely on things like that.

“Please, get some sleep, dear girls,” Castillon said. “Especially you, Harriet Potter. You’ve earned your rest…”

Castillon rose. Harriet and Fern stood too, and Castillon snapped his fingers, vanishing the chairs.

“Think about what I said, Harriet Potter,” Castillon said, once more giving Harriet a significant look. “You may someday find yourself in my situation… and you will understand. And perhaps… find your answer.”

Harriet and Fern bid Castillon good night.

“Well, that didn’t help,” Fern muttered as they ducked back under the cloak, creeping back across the grounds.

“Not about Beauregard,” Harriet admitted.

“I feel bad for Castillon,” Fern said. “This can’t be easy…”

“Wish he’d given more of a clue,” Harriet grumbled.

“Yeah… I mean… by the sound of it, whatever Beauregard’s doing… if he’s caught, he’ll get clothes.”

Harriet grimaced. She remembered how Winky had reacted to being ‘freed’. It was so drastically different from how Dobby had reacted. It was so terrible, it had launched Hermione on her crusade to free all house-elves.

They were halfway back to the house. Harriet was looking around the grounds, lost in thought. All the houses were quiet, their windows dark. All except one.

An oil lamp was flickering in the window. She could see figures moving about. She wondered what the people inside were up to.

“You _are_ nosy,” Fern hissed as Harriet started for the house.

“You don’t have to follow me,” Harriet quipped.

“…Okay so I’m nosy too, let’s see what’s going on!”

Fern nudged Harriet with her elbow. They reached the window. Fern was tall enough to look inside, but Harriet had to take little hops to steal glances inside.

“No fair,” Harriet whispered.

“What about that ladder?” Fern said, pointing down at their feet.

There was indeed a little ladder laying in the bushes that surrounded the little house. Harriet picked it up, finding it came to just under the window. She rested it against the house as quietly as she could, before creeping up. It was shaky, just large enough for her to use without breaking it. Harriet couldn’t imagine who would use such a little ladder.

Harriet peeked in the window. There were two people inside. It was a young man and woman. They were sitting together, holding hands. Harriet couldn’t hear what they were saying through the door, but the man looked despondent. The woman didn’t look much happier, but she looked as though she was still trying to keep a cheerful expression. Harriet also noticed the woman was very pregnant.

Harriet puzzled, then looked around the room. There were brooms and brushes and other cleaning implements everywhere. Harriet raised her eyebrows as she remembered. There was a visiting inventor who was trying to make a spell that Dora said might make house-elves obsolete.

Harriet looked down at the ladder. The truth washed over her. She remembered Castillon’s words.

_“Beauregard stands in the way of progress because he’s afraid it will cost him everything… and likely it will, while in my opinion, he’s merely delaying the inevitable. Conversely… I despise what mankind has done to mine… but am I to crush someone I count a dear friend…?”_

Harriet gasped looking at Fern. “It’s Beauregard!” Harriet hissed. “He’s sabotaging Mr Gatsby’s experiments!”

## * * * *

Harriet was lost in a conundrum. What was she going to do about Beauregard? She now understood why Castillon was so torn up. Beauregard was bred into subservience. It was all he knew. It’s what he thought was right.

He wasn’t necessarily doing anything wrong. Yet, he was prolonging the necessity for house-elf enslavement. And Castillon was complicit in it. What if Snickers was, too?

Harriet tossed and turned. She didn’t think she’d slept at all that night. She barely ate breakfast. As she looked around the table, she knew who she had to talk to. She appreciated Fern joining in the adventure, but only one of her friends would know what to think and do about this situation.

“Hey, Mione, can we talk?” Harriet asked as the group made their way back inside from breakfast.

“Is this about where you and Fern disappeared to last night?” Hermione asked, coolly.

Harriet flushed. “Yes, actually. We went to ask Castillon some questions… and found something out.”

Hermione’s scolding look vanished at once, replaced with interest.

“We… I think…” Harriet rubbed her cheek. “You know Mr Gatsby? The guy who’s trying to make those housekeeping charms?”

“Of course,” Hermione said. “I’ve spoken with him and his wife at the tavern. Scot and I can’t figure out what’s going wrong with his experiments either.”

“We think we have,” Fern said, clearly having listened in.

“You have?” Hermione asked.

“Mmhmm,” Fern nodded. Harriet noted she looked rather proud of herself. “It was Beauregard.”

“We _think_ it’s Beauregard,” Harriet corrected. “He’s the most likely culprit, anyway.”

Hermione’s jaw dropped. “Beauregard? No!”

“What about Beauregard?” Dora asked.

Harriet tightened her lips. “We… well…” She shifted uncomfortably. She hadn’t wanted Dora to know. Not until she knew what to do, anyway.

“We should talk somewhere more private,” Fern said.

“My room,” Harriet said. “It won’t look as suspicious.”

They headed up in the elevator, and into Harriet’s room.

“Okay, so what’s going on with Beauregard?” Dora demanded, crossing her arms.

“Dora, we think Beauregard is sabotaging Mr Gatsby’s experiments,” Harriet said.

Dora’s arms dropped to her side. “You’re shitting me…”

Harriet shifted anxiously from foot to foot. This wasn’t at all what she’d intended. She’d only wanted to get Hermione’s opinion.

“Beauregard!” Dora shouted.

At once there was a pop noise. Beauregard appeared in the middle of them all, looking up at Dora obediently before blinking in surprise, realizing he was surrounded.

“Suis Moi!” Dora said and stormed from the room.

Beauregard cringed, giving everyone a last, anxious look at the gathered teens before he followed Dora from the room.

“Okay, questions…” Marcus said.

“Aye,” Kieran nodded.

Harriet sighed. “Fern and I snuck out last night to ask Castillon some questions. On the way back…”

“We stopped by the Gatsbys’ because we saw the lights on,” Fern chimed in. “We found a little ladder. And while we were talking to Castillon, he said something about Beauregard was doing something bad that would be bad for house elves… at least that’s what I think he said. It was something like that, right?”

“Right,” Harriet nodded. “Something like that.”

While Harriet felt anxious, Fern looked excited. Her face was lit up as she looked around the group.

“So we figure… it’s been Beauregard stopping the experiments from working right,” Harriet said.

Kieran whistled. Hermione was shaking her head in disbelief. “But… Mr Gatsby’s experiments would help. He wouldn’t have to work as hard, or be a slave at all? Why on earth would he do that…”

“Mione, it’s all he knows,” Marcus said. “He thinks it’s his purpose… you can’t just fix it like that…”

“But I… just…”

Marcus put his hands on her shoulder. “Hey… it’s like I said… I know something about this… I’m _still_ not over the shite Mum put me through… though you’re helping.”

Hermione’s cheeks pinkened at once, but she still smiled. She looked towards the door. “What do you think will happen to him?”

“Dunno,” Ronnie shrugged. “Dora’s not the most forgiving person…”

“At least it wasn’t Snickers,” Scott said. “She and Emma are pretty attached to him…”

The group fell silent. Now and then, one would open their mouths to say something but all thought better of it.

Everyone looked around when the door opened. Dora stepped inside, her face locked in a scowl.

“I can’t believe him… I just can’t believe him…”

“Oh, Dora,” Hermione said. “It’s true?”

“Yes,” Dora hissed. “It’s true.”

“What did you do?” Harriet asked.

Dora shrugged. “Told him not to do it anymore. Told him it was too important and he was being stupid.”

Dora’s anger began to abate. She joined them, Ronnie putting a comforting arm around her shoulders.

“He… he was afraid we’d abandon him,” Dora said.

Her lip trembled a little and as Harriet watched, she reached up and wiped away a tear. Harriet stared. The last time she’d seen Dora cry it was the first time Sirius broke into Hogwarts, Hallowe’en of their third year when she was worried he would hurt Emma.

“So what are you going to do?” Kieran asked.

“Nothing more than what I did,” Dora said. “I told him to stop, and that we’d never replace him. He’s part of our family! We’d give him clothes to free him but he wouldn’t understand! For most house-elves, clothes are almost a death sentence! They don’t take care of themselves and just starve to death!”

“So, he’s not going to interfere with the Gatsby’s anymore?”

“He better not,” Dora said, her scowl returning. “I told him if it didn’t work I _would_ tell Father, and Father most certainly would give him clothes…”

## * * * *

The entire entrance hall was alive with dancing mops and brooms, frolicking around the floor amongst the flying dust pans and scrub-brushes. The air smelled lemony and fresh. Mr Flamel’s delighted laughter filled the hall.

“This is remarkable, Mr Gatsby,” Mr Flamel said, shaking his hand vigorously.

“Thank you, Mr Flamel, oh thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Two days had passed. Mr Gatsby had just had his final test. He passed, as Beauregard was under the watchful eye of Dora the entire time.

“This is a blessed day in the Wizarding world!” Mr Flamel declared. “With this, we begin the closing of a dark chapter in wizarding history!”

Harriet glanced over at Dora who was still standing right next to Beauregard. The little elf’s expression was hard to read as he watched the cleaning implements flying about, doing his work for him. He looked as though he couldn’t decide if he should be shocked, appalled, or saddened.

Dora knelt beside the elf and hugged him around the shoulders. Beauregard’s eyes popped open so wide they looked as though they were about to fall out of his head. Then he closed them and turned hugging Dora back.

Harriet was glad Dora handled it the way she did. Apparently, she was not the only one. Castillon caught her eye and gave her a warm nod of approval. She wasn’t sure she approved of his indecision on the issue, but she was sure she had done the right thing. That’s what mattered to her.

The whole group was gathered around. Not only was it the day of Mr Gatsby’s final test, but it was their last day in Avalon. Harriet almost couldn’t believe it.

She was heading back to Britain. They were going to go to Grimmauld Place, first. They would spend the night there, then stop at the Ministry to file the adoption papers, and then go on to their newly completed home in Hogsmeade.

Harriet was bouncing with excitement. She was going to be adopted, and she was going to see her new true home. A real home. A real family.

Harriet felt a little tug on her arm and looked down. Castillon had moved over to her. She hadn’t heard his tell-tale cane-click in the kerfuffle of the cleaning supplies.

“I should like to have a word with you, Harriet Potter,” Castillon said. “Somewhere a little quieter.”

“Okay,” Harriet said, following him.

They moved a few paces away from the group. Harriet glanced over her shoulder. Daddy was leaning back, watching her. Clearly, he wasn’t about to let her out of his sight that easily. Castillon must have noticed as well, for he stopped while they were still in sight.

“I… I want to thank you for how you handled Beauregard, Harriet Potter,” Castillon said.

Harriet shrugged. “I didn’t really do much, to be honest… I tried to just ask Hermione what I should do, and Dora overheard us…”

“All the same, you could have gone straight to Charles… but you did not. At the same time, you had the decisiveness to at least try something.”

Castillon sighed, rubbing his shiny, bald head. “I am old, Harriet Potter. I have garnered a great deal of wisdom in my time but I am old. I don’t think as fast as I used to. I find myself forgetting things more and more… I’ve not much left, even with the bits of Elixer of Life that Nicolas and Perenelle left me.

_I knew it!_

Castillon reached into his vest pocket and drew out the little vial. Harriet stared at it. Was Castillon about to do what Harriet thought he was?

“I want you to have this, Harriet Potter,” Castillon said, holding out the vial to her. “You have earned it. Use it when you need it most. You, humans, need more of it than I do. A single sip can last me a year. But for you humans, it would take this vial.”

Harriet shook her head. “Castillon, I can’t! You need it, the Flamels need you.”

“I’ve taken enough to last me a little while,” Castillon said. “Charles is ready to continue the business without me. Le Malf watches and clocks will become collector pieces without me to make them… their value will only increase. You need this far more than I, Harriet Potter. It is time for _me_ to stop being indecisive and selfish. Indecision is a luxury we can no longer afford.”

Harriet held out a trembling hand. She took the vial and found it radiated with heat. Castillon gave her a satisfied little smile.

“Keep it safe, Harriet Potter. Use it when it is most in need… use it to save a life. Use it to show the world the goodness inside you.”

“We’re almost ready,” called the voice of Captain Kane.

They had set up Portkeys. Harriet and her family were going straight back to Grimmauld Place. The Flamels were remaining behind, the rest of her friends were returning to their homes.

“It was so good to get to know you better,” Camille said as she and Fern hugged and kissed cheeks.

“You too,” Fern grinned.

The twins were hugging Emma tightly.

“We’ll see you soon at Hogwarts,” Nan said, teary eyed.

“Yeah, not even a couple weeks away,” Rosie agreed.

Emma smiled down at them. “Of course.”

Mum put kindly hands on the twins’ shoulders, giving Emma a hug then guiding the twins over to their group. The groups gathered around their respective Portkeys. Harriet and her family were around one, along with Captain Kane and Hercule. Her other friends all had French Aurors with them as well. Harriet was pleased to see they were trying to protect her friends as much as her.

She looked around the room some more. She felt a pang of guilt looking up the stairs. She’d forgotten to say goodbye to Bill. She supposed she would see him again, but she still felt rude. Harriet wondered where the time had gone. She’d been here almost a month, and yet she felt she had done so little. She’d just played games and tried not to think.

Sebastian was standing nearby. He was talking with Mr Flamel, who put a comforting hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. Sebastian was looking happier than Harriet had seen him in a while. She wondered what they were talking about.

She could hear Captain Kane starting a countdown. She touched the rusty old pail with the rest of her family. She did smile at the thought of seeing Kreacher again. She’d have to tell him all about Castillon. The thought of a free elf like that would probably blow Kreacher’s little mind.

Harriet jerked her head around to look at Castillon again. Castillon, the last free elf. Harriet felt panic kick in. She shouldn’t have this vial. It wasn’t right. Castillon was the last of his kind. She couldn’t just let him die. She stuck a hand in her pocket, taking hold of the vial.

As she did, Castillon reached into his vest. From it, he produced another vial, identical to the one he’d given Harriet. He gave her a mighty wink, and before Harriet could think another thought, the uncomfortable tug behind her navel jerked her off her feet.

The world became a swirl of colours, and her hair whipped in the wind. The twins bumped into her sides as they spiralled and swirled towards Grimmauld Place.

## * * * *

Their feet hit the floor. The twins stumbled, but kept standing this time. Harriet smiled looking around the now familiar surroundings. It didn’t look anything like it used to.

The large sitting room was spotless now. Harriet couldn’t even smell dust or mould. The fireplace was burning merrily.

“There we are!” Sirius chuckled from a nearby chair. “Right on time.”

“Uncle Sirius,” the twins grinned, hurrying over and hugging him.

Sirius laughed, hugging them. “Who else did you expect? Stuffy old Remus?”

“As a point of fact, I am here,” Remus said from the doorway, chuckling as the twins hurried over to hug him, too.

“Thank you,” Daddy said to Captain Kane, shaking his hand. “I can’t say I trusted you much when we first met, but you’ve always been there for us.”

Captain Kane shrugged. “My job is to help set things right over here, Mr Dusk. Your group is working against a corrupt government and a dictator in waiting. We’re more than happy to help your group against both. Anything you need, let us know. Our team will help.”

Nan and Rosie elbowed each other, grinning. Harriet rolled her eyes, fighting back a giggle.

“Thank you as well, Hercule,” Mum smiled. “Your people were exceptional.”

“Ah, one blight on our record, but on ze whole, we did our utmost.”

“Bye Hercule,” Harriet and the twins said in unison.

Hercule smiled and tipped his cap to them.

“Shall we be off then?” Captain Kane asked. “We’ll go monitor your belongings being brought over.”

The pair waved and headed from the room.

“Where’s Kreacher?” Harriet asked.

“Making lunch,” Sirius said with a smile. “French Onion soup, one of his specialties.”

“Great,” Harriet grinned.

“Mr Dusk!” came the voice of Captain Kane.

The rest of his words were drown out by the roaring screams of the portrait of Sirius’ mother. Daddy hurried from the room, Sirius and Remus in hot pursuit.

“Stay here, girls,” Mum said, about to follow.

“But—”

“Stay here!” Mum insisted, giving them all a stern look.

Harriet and the twins all gave each other uncomfortable looks. What was going on? Were they in danger? Did Voldemort or Kinney know they’d returned?

“Stay with us, girls,” Grampa Zeb said, putting his arms around the twins’ shoulders.

“I’m sure it’s nothing serious,” Gramma Lisa said, putting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder, too.

They could still hear the screams of the portrait. Harriet could barely hear Kreacher trying to calm her. Finally, the screams subsided, and Mum poked her head into the room.

“Mom, Dad, we could use a hand…”

Grampa and Gramma exchanged looks and followed her from the room. There was scuffling in the hallway. Harriet crept over and peeked out into the hallway. The men were all dragging something down the hall towards the dining room. She leaned further out and gasped. It was a body.

“What is it?” Rosie asked.

“I… stay here,” Harriet said to them.

“Like hell!” Rosie glared, hands on her hips.

She grumbled as she crept from the room. She could hear the twins following. They followed the dragging sound to the entrance of the dining hall, peeking inside.

The body had been lifted onto the table. Harriet couldn’t see the face, but she could tell it was a short, shabbily dressed man.

Sirius sighed leaning on the table. “Well, finally made good on his threat…”

“Strange, though…” Daddy said. “You’d think there’d be more signs of torture… he looks almost untouched.”

“Why’s that strange?” Sirius asked.

“Kinney has a habit of leaving… brutal messages,” Captain Kane said. “To just use the Killing Curse… it’s not like him.”

“Are we sure that’s what this is?” Mum asked. “We’d need a proper autopsy.”

“Hippocrates is going to love us,” Remus said with dark humour.

“We can send some of our own coroners,” Hercule offered.

“Where are we going to put him?” Daddy asked. “That’s the most pressing question.”

“Girls!”

Mum had spotted the trio peering into the room. She hurried over, scowling. “I told you all to stay put.”

“Who’s that?” Rosie asked.

Harriet’s chest clenched. She had a strong suspicion who it was. It was Mundungus Fletcher. Kinney had finally killed him.

Harriet’s knees got a little weak. She’d never met Fletcher, but now he was dead. Because of her. Harriet had told, and now Fletcher was dead.

“It’s not your concern,” Mum said. “Upstairs to your rooms, now!”

“But Mum—”

“Now!”

## * * * *

Harriet was lying on her back, staring at the ceiling. A man was dead. She shouldn’t have told. She killed him.

No, she can’t think that way. She didn’t know whether or not Fletcher was even alive at that point. Sebastian was right. She wasn’t responsible for what Kinney did.

But what if she hadn’t told? Kinney would have almost total access to the Order. But on the other hand, he’d had that for a while. He hadn’t hurt anyone (except for Fletcher) and had even helped them.

Why? Why was he doing this? Harriet curled up in her bed. She clutched Finn tight.

When would he be found? Sirius had to find him soon. She put on the headphones of the Walkman, turning it on. The comforting sound of his voice filled her mind and she sighed as she relaxed. She lay there curled up, listening and trying to find peace.

_“So beautiful,” Finn whispered._

_“Th-thank you…”_

_She was sitting on a sofa. She was wearing the outfit she’d worn to meet her new grandparents. Finn was kneeling in front of her, ever so gently massaging her calves._

_“Your outfit’s so cute…” Finn moaned._

_“Thank you…”_

_“S-so… why…”_

_“Why what?”_

_“Why do you wear socks like this…?” he asked._

_“I…” Harriet thought. “I like them…”_

_Finn moaned. He slowly pulled her into a hug._

Harriet woke. She sat up, rubbing her head. What had woken her? She’d been having such a lovely dream. Finn was in it. He was happy.

There was a thumping sound. Harriet blinked sliding her legs off her bed. It came from downstairs. There was another thump and bang.

Harriet snatched her wand up from the table and hurried to the door. They were under attack. Was it Lord Voldemort, or Kinney and Crouch?

Harriet leaned over the railing. There was a flash of a spell and a blood-curdling, bestial roar. The fight was going on only a few flights below. It was almost to the twins’ room. Harriet hurried down. She stopped at the girls’ room and looked in. Rosie was cuddled on her bed, Nan standing over her with her own wand drawn.

“What’s going on?” Harriet asked.

“It’s the dead guy!” Nan said, trembling though still holding out her wand. “He tried to get into our room! Captain Kane grabbed him.”

Harriet stared. _The dead guy? Fletcher?_

Another guttural roar filled the room. She could hear Sirius’ mother screaming too. Harriet turned and started down the stairs. Stopped in shock.

Nan was right. It was Mundungus Fletcher. He was flailing around, batting as his coat sleeve which was ablaze. Captain Kane was above him, blocking the way. Daddy, Mum, Remus, and Sirius were below. It looked as though they were trying to contain him.

“Easy, easy!” Daddy called as Fletcher grabbed for him.

From their juxtaposed positions, Harriet could tell that they were trying not to fire spells for fear of hitting each other. Remus and Mum were trying to move down the staircase to get a side-on shot with their wands.

“He won’t stop moving,” Sirius growled, training his wand on Fletcher.

Fletcher finally batted out the fire, and looked around at the gathered men. He grabbed the railing and ripped it off its supports, flinging it up at Captain Kane. Captain Kane ducked it but his foot slipped on the staircase and he fell back.

Fletcher pounced at once, roaring like a stuck pig as he clamped his hands on Captain Kane’s throat. Sirius charged past Daddy, throwing himself on Fletcher’s back. Fletcher flailed, trying to throw Sirius off. Sirius grunted pulling Fletcher off Captain Kane. Sirius had a triumphant look as he put Fletcher in a headlock, then it happened. Fletcher gave an awkward flail and the pair began falling back. Sirius’ eyes widened as the realization they were falling came over him.

Harriet watched in horror as the pair fell back, tumbling down the stairs. Daddy just managed to duck out of the way as they tumbled past. They hit the next landing with a sickening crunch. Sirius didn’t stir, but Fletcher rose and raised his hands for Sirius’ neck.

“STAY AWAY FROM MY MASTER!”

Kreacher appeared from nowhere. He flung his tiny body onto Fletcher’s head, and stabbed a steak-knife deep into one of Fletcher’s eyes. Fletcher gave out another scream and began flailing again. Kreacher held on for dear life, driving the knife in deeper. Kreacher jumped off just in time as Fletcher began to fall down the next set of stairs. He landed awkwardly, but successfully on the landing as Fletcher tumbled past Mum and Remus. They were was staring as Fletcher hit the landing.

Fletcher began to rise again, groaning. His left arm was broken in several places, the bone jutting out. His head was canted unnaturally to the side. He raised a hand towards Kreacher, Mum, and Remus and took a step towards them.

“This is for Master Regulus!” Kreacher declared. He snapped his fingers.

The scream tore into Harriet’s mind. Fletcher burst into flames. Kreacher had set him on fire from head to toe. Fletcher screamed and roared, before collapsing on the landing.

“ _Aguamenti!”_ Remus shouted, dousing Fletcher with water, preventing the flames from spreading to the house.

Fletcher no longer stirred. The house began to stink with the rancid smell of burnt flesh. Harriet coughed as nausea came over her.

She began moving down the stairs again. Captain Kane was getting to his feet, coughing and clutching his neck. Harriet looked past him at Daddy and Kreacher, kneeling beside Sirius.

“Master Sirius,” Kreacher whimpered, shaking Sirius’ shoulder. “Master Sirius, answer Kreacher, answer him! Don’t leave Kreacher alone!”

“Kreacher…” Sirius moaned.

“Master Sirius!” Kreacher gasped.

Daddy gave a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank Merlin,” he groaned.

“Daniel…” Sirius said.

“It’s okay,” Daddy said. “Kreacher stopped him.”

“Daniel…” Sirius muttered. “I… I can’t feel my legs…”


	12. A New Life

“The path forward is only certain when we know from whence we came.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet’s knees were bouncing. They were sitting in the waiting room of St Mungo’s. Under normal circumstances, Harriet would have found it loud and irritating. Instead, she found herself incapable of hearing any of it. In fact, the entire trip to St Mungo’s had been a bit of a blur.

The healers arrived at once when Remus summoned them. They cast _Petrificus Totalus_ on Sirius to keep his body aligned, and floated him down the stairs and out the door. He was loaded into an ambulance, as Sebastian had been, and driven off. Captain Kane had left as soon as he had his bearings. He couldn’t risk being seen in such mysterious circumstances and risk his ‘good-will’ with the Ministry.

Almost the whole Order was here. Most had their hands in their pockets. Harriet knew they were clutching their wands as they eyed the other occupants of the waiting area.

Harriet was sitting between the twins, with Daddy and Mum on either side of them. Rosie was still trembling. Harriet had an arm around her, doing her best to remain calm. She felt Mum’s hand on her back, and her knees stopped bouncing as a sense of surety and calm settled over her.

Kreacher was sobbing, curled up in Harriet’s lap like a wrinkly, hairless dog. Harriet finally appreciated how far Kreacher and Sirius had finally put their differences behind them. After so many years of only having a mad portrait to talk to, Kreacher had a living, breathing member of the Black family in his life again.

Harriet furrowed her brow as she remembered. Kreacher had said something strange before setting Fletcher’s body on fire. Something about ‘Master Regulus’. What had that meant?

They had already been here two hours. What was taking so long? What had happened with Fletcher? How had his body been moving around while he was so clearly dead? She vaguely remembered someone telling her about dead bodies being enchanted to do the bidding of dark wizards, but she couldn’t remember who had told her, when, or where.

Just then, Remus stepped around the corner. The sad smile on Remus’ face told Harriet everything she needed. Her worry began to ebb away.

Daddy rose. “Is he…?”

Kreacher looked up and leapt off Harriet’s lap at once. “Master Sirius?”

“He’ll live,” Remus replied. “The healers have managed to heal the broken bones in his back from the fall, but they say the nerves and his spinal cord are going to take much longer to heal. Even with magic, it could be several months; could be as long as a year…”

Daddy sank back into the chair. Kreacher exhaled. Harriet felt her shoulders slump in relief.

“That’s the good news, I’m afraid,” Remus continued.

The group fell silent. Harriet felt like the rest of the room had as well.

“Hippocrates says that Sirius—even if he gets back the ability to walk—will never fully heal. He’s likely to suffer lingering pain for the rest of his life, and will most likely need a cane… with an injury to the spine, even magic can only do so much.”

“Can we see him?” Nan asked.

Remus knelt to look in her eyes. “Not… not right now. He needs to rest.”

“We can come back and see him as soon as possible, honey,” Daddy said, kneeling to hug Nan. “When the healers say he’s ready.”

“So, what are we going to do now?” Tonks asked, walking up to take Remus’ hands.

“Now? I think we all need sleep…” Daddy said, his weariness showing. “Someone needs to brief Minerva. And Abby… someone will have to tell Abby…”

“I’ll tell Abby,” Tonks volunteered.

“And I’ll go to Minerva,” Mad-Eye said.

“Where are we going?” Harriet asked. “Back to Grimmauld Place?”

Daddy gave her a smile as sad as Remus’. “No, we can’t go back to Grimmauld Place. We have only one place to go now. I just… wish it was under better circumstances…”

A light clicked in Harriet’s brain at once and a confused set of emotions filled her. “We’re going to our new home?” Harriet asked.

Daddy’s smile grew just a hair.

“What… what of Kreacher?” Kreacher whimpered, looking around the little family.

“Well, you can come with us, if you want,” Mum suggested, giving the little elf a soft smile.

“But… Kreacher must care for the House of Black,” Kreacher said, looking from face to face. “Kreacher cannot go without his master’s permission!”

Harriet thought. The answer came to her at once, and she smiled, before kneeling beside Kreacher and taking his little hands.

“How about this, Kreacher? You can go to Grimmauld Place during the day and take care of it, and at night you can come sleep with us at the house? That way you won’t ever be lonely?”

Kreacher was looking up at Harriet as though she’d just been speaking to him in gibberish. Remus knelt as well, resting a hand on Kreacher’s little shoulders.

“Now Kreacher, you and Master Sirius have come to know each other quite well over the last month or so, haven’t you? He’s told me all about the long nights you two have spent talking about your pasts. Do you really think Master Sirius would want you to be lonely again?”

Kreacher thought, then slowly shook his head.

“Then come with us,” Nan grinned.

“Yeah, what if someone sends another dead guy after us? Who’ll keep us safe then?” Rosie said, just loud enough to be heard.

“Master… Master Sirius… would want Kreacher to keep his friends safe…”

“Then it’s settled,” Daddy said.

“Kreacher… will remain… until he knows Master is safe,” Kreacher said.

“Very well, Kreacher,” Mum smiled, leaning down to rub his bald head gently. “We’ll expect you as soon as you know.”

Kreacher gave her a teary-eyed smile.

Mum leaned down further and softly whispered in Kreacher’s ear. The elf nodded solemnly. Mum put her hands on the twins’ shoulders, and Daddy put a hand on Harriet’s.

“I’ll come with you,” Remus said. “Little I can do here. And I could use rest as well…”

“Off we are then,” Daddy smiled. “Homeward bound.”

## * * * *

Harriet was at once exhausted and yet overflowing with energy. However, the latter might have just been the effect of the Knight Bus. They took it as a more discrete form of transportation, bribing the conductor, Stan Shunpike, to keep his silence. Harriet vaguely wondered just how much money Stan made that way.

Rosie was curled up on one of the beds. The attack had clearly left a mark on her. This surprised Harriet. Of the two Rosie always seemed the most outgoing and confident, while Nan was the shyer. Indeed, she’d sometimes wondered if the Sorting Hat had mixed up the two. Yet when danger presented itself, it was Nan who stood up to it.

Nan was sitting on the bed next to her sister, gently stroking her hair. The grown-ups were sitting nearby, huddled in conversation. However, not even the banging and swaying of the bus could keep Harriet from eavesdropping on their conversation.

“Sending Fletcher’s corpse as an Inferius?” Daddy growled. “Sick bastard…”

“I surmise his goal was making Grimmauld Place useless to us,” Remus said shrewdly. “He was just waiting for someone to return… now too many people know where exactly it is and how to get inside.”

Daddy ran a hand through his hair. “Just like Aaron said… He’s flushed us out of hiding… I hate being on the defensive all the time.”

“Thank Merlin for him…” Mum muttered, putting an arm around Daddy’s shoulder.

Daddy snorted. “I’ll say… though it would have been nice if he’d told us he suspected Fletcher was an Inferius before…”

“He nearly lost his life keeping our girls safe, Daniel,” Mum said.

“You’re right, you’re right…”

“And I imagine he figured we would have been averse to him suggesting we burn Fletcher’s body with no evidence,” Remus said with dark humour. “What puzzles me most is the behaviour of the Inferius,” Remus pondered “heading after the girls. Solomon Kinney is clever but he couldn’t have known which room was theirs.”

“I imagine it was just following the sound,” Mum replied. “Rosie was practising her singing.”

Rosie shivered. Harriet took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

“Thanks…” Rosie mumbled. “Useless…”

“Oh Rosie, it’s okay…”

“Yeah, we’re safe,” Nan said, trying to give Rosie an encouraging smile.

“I didn’t even think to go for my wand… he slammed open the door, and I just…”

Harriet squeezed her hand tighter. “It’s okay… Nan’s right, we’re safe…”

“Safe? We have a crazy evil guy who can change his appearance and makes freaking dead people come after us along with another super evil crazy guy—”

“Hey, hey,” Harriet said, squeezing Rosie’s hand tighter.

Rosie shuddered. Harriet didn’t know what made her do it, but she began to hum. Softly, she was humming _Ashokan Farewell_.

Rosie began to calm down. Harriet kept humming. Nan joined in, still stroking her sister’s hair. Harriet finally smiled as she saw Rosie had drifted off to sleep.

## * * * *

The Knight Bus slammed to a halt. Rosie started, looking around panicking. Harriet and Nan spoke calming to her.

“Sorry…” Rosie murmured, coming back to her senses.

The family rose and headed down the stairs. Harriet didn’t know how to feel at all. She was worried about Sirius, upset about the attack, and excited to finally see her home all at once.

Harriet kept peeking out the windows of the bus. The buildings were too dark still; the sun had not yet risen above the mountains. Harriet felt anticipation rising. She was almost bouncing by the time she stepped off the bus.

Harriet’s jaw dropped. Hogsmeade did indeed look exactly the way it used to. Harriet turned in a circle, staring around. Everything was right where it was. She could see the Three Broomsticks in the distance. Her heart began to glow as she saw Daddy’s shop.

Harriet turned. She felt staggered by what she saw. The house, like the rest of Hogsmeade, looked exactly the way it used to.

“Whoa,” Rosie grinned.

“Let’s take a look inside, shall we?” Daddy said, his lips twitching, a twinkle in his eye.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“Oh, you’ll see,” he winked.

Daddy walked up and unlocked the front door. He stepped aside, pulling it open. Harriet tried not to run. She did hurry in with the twins, looking around eagerly. She and the twins stopped in unison. Something wasn’t right.

“Yes?” Daddy asked, his lips twitching as he stood in the doorway.

“Uh, where’s… everything?” Nan asked.

There was no furniture anywhere in sight. No pictures hanging on the walls.

“Dear, oh dear,” Daddy sighed melodramatically. “There must have been a _terrible_ mistake…”

Mum rolled her eyes but smiled, stepping inside past Daddy. “This house is a decoy, girls. It’s the _real_ new headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix. Where _we_ will live is a bit more secret.”

“Where is it?” Rosie asked, confused.

“We’ll show you in a minute,” Daddy smiled. “Here, let’s show you some of the features.”

Remus stepped inside, closing the door. Daddy put his hand on the little oil lamp beside the door and pushed it up. There was clanking and the hardwood floorboards all rose into the air. From beneath them floated furniture, tables, chairs, and so on. The floorboards settled down again, the furniture setting down on them. The house now looked just like any ordinary home.

“Cool,” Rosie smiled. “Why not keep it like this all the time?”

“Because of this,” Daddy winked.

He pulled the lamp all the way down. The furniture and floorboards rose again, and this time more furniture rose from the false floor. Once the scene resettled, Harriet saw that all the tables were covered in maps and documents.

“It usually looks like this,” Mum explained. “This is our proper headquarters.”

“Awesome,” Harriet said, looking over the nearest table.

At that moment, Daddy moved the oil lamp back into its proper place. With another flurry of activity, the house went back to looking vacant. Harriet twisted her lips in frustration. She knew Daddy had done that on purpose to keep her from snooping too much.

“Shall we get on to the real house then?” Remus smiled.

“Take my hand, dear,” Mum said, holding her hand out to Rosie.

Harriet took Daddy’s hand while Remus took Nan’s. The three adults drew their wands.

“We’re Apparating?” Harriet asked.

“That we are,” Daddy chuckled.

“Ready?” Mum asked.

“Yes, Mum,” the three replied in unison.

The adults spun on the spot, swinging their wands. Harriet for the briefest second felt as though she was being squeezed down a long, impossibly thin tube. As soon as she was aware of the sensation, it was over. Harriet opened her eyes and gasped softly.

They were standing in the mountains. In the distance, Harriet could just see the little village and the castle. It felt odd to see Hogwarts so early before classes began. It was just starting to be lit up by the rising sun over the mountains.

“This way,” Daddy chuckled, turning Harriet around.

Harriet blinked in surprise. She certainly had not expected this for a home. There was a freshly painted red door with an arched top, a little round window at about face height, flanked by two bay windows. That was not the remarkable part, however. The remarkable part was it looked to be built right into the side of the mountain.

“Is it illusioned to look like that?” Rosie asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.

“Nope,” Daddy grinned. “That’s genuine mountain.”

“It was formerly a cave,” Remus explained, putting a hand on the wall. “It was Sirius’ idea, in fact. He hid here while he was on the run. We thought it might make a more secure and secret home than right in the middle of Hogsmeade.”

“You can see why it took a little while to make,” Mum said.

“Whoa…” Nan smiled.

“We’re inside the Fidelius Charm,” Mum explained. “The secret is ‘The home of Harriet Potter is Mountain Home, Loch Builg’.”

“Loch Builg?” Harriet asked.

“It’s the name of the lake,” Rosie said knowledgeably, pointing.

“Huh,” Harriet muttered. She’d never thought about what the lake was called, before. It was always just ‘the lake’.

“Professor Flitwick is our secret keeper. In fact, he made most of the house for us. Said he got the idea from some Muggle books he enjoys. He wanted to make the door totally circular, for some reason…” Daddy explained.

“Wicked,” Rosie said.

“Let’s all get inside, shall we?” Remus said.

“Yeah,” Harriet agreed. As excited as she was, her exhaustion was starting to win.

Daddy opened the door and stepped aside. Harriet was the first in. It didn’t look anything like a cave on the inside. There was only one floor as far as she could tell, but it still seemed spacious. The walls were painted a pleasant white, as was the ceiling. Harriet noted the hallway looked more like a tunnel, with round walls and ceiling. The floor was brightly polished hardwood with thick, soft area rugs. To the immediate right was a large sitting room, and to the left the kitchen, much as it had been in the old house.

“The furniture took a while to make, as well,” Remus said, smiling sheepishly.

The twins giggled. Harriet ran a hand along the smooth surface of a narrow hallway table. Remus was a skilled woodworker. He’d picked up the hobby to make up for everything he’d destroyed as a werewolf.

Past the kitchen was the dining room, and across from that a pantry. Then came a study, full of books and a large desk with three smaller writing desks. Harriet supposed the large one was for Mum and the other three were for her and the twins to do homework while on holidays.

“The first bedroom on the right is ours,” Daddy said, “and Remus right across from us. Harriet, yours is the next one down from ours. Rosie, Nan, yours is right across from Harriet’s.”

“Cool,” Nan said, sleepily.

“There are two guest rooms past that,” Mum said. “The door all the way back is to Remus’ workshop.”

Harriet tried and failed to fight off a yawn.

Daddy chuckled. “Alright, let’s get you all to bed. We have a big day tomorrow.”

“We do?” Harriet asked.

“Of course dear,” Mum smiled. “We still have to get to the Ministry.”

Harriet blinked.

“To file the adoption papers,” Daddy said. “It was supposed to be today… but naturally, we’ll have to push that back.”

Harriet’s heart skipped a beat. She had completely forgotten. How could she have forgotten that?

“Yay, official sisters!” Rosie said, hugging Harriet tight.

“Now, girls,” Daddy said, kneeling in front of them, looking around at them with a most serious look. “If you’re in Hogsmeade and _anything_ happens… you are to make for the headquarters. You two find Harriet, and Harriet you find Nan and Rosie. You get under her invisibility cloak and you make for headquarters. Harriet, I want you to have your cloak on you at all times this year.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“At least three members of the Order are going to be on guard there at all times. They will take you straight here.”

The three teens nodded. Daddy reached into his pocket and pulled out three small silver necklaces. They were simple but pretty, Harriet thought. The pendant of each was a circle, with a crescent moon and a single star.

“If you’re in school, or not close enough to the headquarters and you are in trouble, at any time, turn the star.”

Daddy twisted the star of one to the left. At once there was chiming. Daddy, Mum, and Remus all reached down the fronts of their shirts and drew out identical necklaces. They were all glowing a soft blue and jingling.

“Every Order member has one,” Daddy said. “If one of you trips this, everyone in the Order will be alerted and Apparate as close to you as they can. Obviously, we can’t Apparate into Hogwarts, but Professors McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick, and Spring have them and will come to you at once.”

Harriet and the twins nodded, taking the necklaces. Harriet felt a sense of comfort holding the pendant, studying it. No matter where she was, Daddy would come. At least someone would come.

Harriet hugged Daddy tight, thanking him. She put on the necklace, smiling down at it. Daddy put a hand on her back and gently guided Harriet to her room.

Harriet felt excitement overcome her exhaustion again as she found herself in her own bedroom. Her very own bedroom. Not a spare room that was once Dudley’s storage. Not a spare room in Daddy’s old house that had never had her in mind. This room was made just for her.

It was about the same size as her room at Daddy’s old house. The floor was hardwood, with a big, soft area rug. The walls and ceiling were a pleasant sky-blue and also curved outwards like the hallway. It made the room feel bigger than it really was. There was a lovely chandelier and Harriet was delighted to see she even had her own private bath through a door beside her bed.

The bed was double-sized, on a cherry frame, with big fluffy white pillows and a Gryffindor red duvet. There was a matching nightstand beside the bed and a vanity desk like the one at Grimmauld Place. There was a large, cherry wardrobe for her clothes, a stand for her broom, and a desk in front of an enchanted window. Her trunk was already here, along with Hedwig. Hedwig hooted flying over to Harriet. Harriet giggled as Hedwig settled on her arm, stroking Hedwig’s feathers.

Harriet let Hedwig flutter back up onto the top of the wardrobe, puffing up sleepily.

“You like it?” Daddy asked.

Harriet hugged him her tightest. “I love it, thank you.”

“Good,” Daddy said sounding as tired as Harriet felt. “Get sleep, sweetie.”

“Yes, Daddy,” Harriet smiled, walking over to her trunk to take out some pyjamas.

Daddy gave her one last smile before gently shutting the door to her room. Harriet opened her trunk. DIDS growled in agitation as he always did when he had to be packed away for travel, but he seemed to calm himself and settle down when she set him on the soft duvet.

Harriet then took out Finn. She set him on the little bedside table, giving him a sad smile.

“Look, Finn… it’s my first, totally my own, bedroom.”

A sudden, horrible thought occurred to Harriet. Sirius was in the hospital. He was going to need Kreacher to be there for him. Who was going to look for Finn, now?

## * * * *

Harriet’s knees were bouncing again. They were sitting in the lobby of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, just outside the Wizengamot Administration Services office. Harriet’s eyes kept drifting to the big wooden doors marked: _Auror Office_.

She had seen Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks coming and going a couple times while they waited. Kingsley ignored them, but Tonks kept giving them little thumbs-ups and winks as she passed. She looked as though she was positively bubbling with excitement.

It was almost one in the afternoon, now. They had already been to St Mungo’s to check on Sirius. Unfortunately, the healers told them he was still under the effects of a sleeping draught and was not ready for visitors yet.

Kreacher was still in the waiting room. He could barely stand, having not slept all night. Harriet told him he was being silly, that Sirius was in good hands, and Kreacher could definitely get some sleep. The little elf obliged, and after a couple weary tries managed to disapparate.

Harriet’s anxiety was growing. What was taking so long? They were just going to file for the adoption, weren’t they? That shouldn’t take so long, just having to sign some papers? It’s not like it was going to all happen today.

Daddy seemed to be of the same mind. She could hear him muttering under his breath, though couldn’t make out what he was saying. Mum could hear him, Harriet supposed. She was whispering calming things to him.

Under the guise of retying her trainer, Harriet leaned a little closer, trying to listen.

“Something’s wrong. It’s not going to work, it’s not going to work, it’s not going to work…”

“Daniel, it’s going to be fine.”

“I’ve thought about this day for years, Rora. They’re not… it’s just not going to be—”

“Dusk family?”

Harriet’s neck cricked as she looked around. She winced, rubbing it, sitting up. A kindly looking, strawberry-blonde witch was standing in the doorway to the office.

“Th-that’s us,” Daddy said, practically jumping to his feet.

“Wonderful!” the witch said, smiling pleasantly. “Do come in. Terribly sorry about your wait! It’s been a busy, busy day!”

“That’s quite alright,” Mum said politely.

They followed the woman into the room. Harriet felt her throat tighten at the stacks of parchment on the woman’s desk. That was only the first surprise. The next surprise was the woman was not alone in the room.

“Ah, hello again, Miss Potter.”

Harriet was so surprised to see Percy Weasley again, after all she’d heard about him since the graveyard, she was struck speechless. He looked the same as ever, haughty with his tortoise-shell glasses and curly red hair.

“H-hi,” Harriet stammered, shaking Percy’s hand.

He was smiling. Why was he smiling? He thought Harriet had been brainwashed by Dumbledore or something, didn’t he?

“Percy?” Daddy asked, shaking his hand.

“Good afternoon, Mr Dusk,” Percy said, genially. “And _Mrs_ Dusk, I understand. Congratulations! It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

The little family exchanged looks. Percy was talking as though he’d never met any of them before. Harriet knew for a fact that Percy knew who Daddy was, and had spoken with him before.

“The Minister sent me down personally to oversee this procedure,” Percy continued importantly. “The Minister has taken a very personal interest in Miss Potter’s case over the years, and so he wants to ensure that the injustices done to her over the years are righted. Finally bringing Miss Potter into the fold with a proper, loving, magical family is being considered of the highest priority.”

“I see…” Mum said, giving Daddy a sideways glance.

Harriet’s apprehension was growing. What was Fudge up to? She certainly did not like the way Percy seemed to highlight her living with a magical family.

“So… you’re saying…”

“This is all official, today,” Percy said pleasantly. “We’ll fill out all the paperwork, and Harriet shall leave legally considered your adoptive daughter—and the twins as well.”

Percy bowed to the twins pleasantly. Rosie and Nan gave each other raised eyebrows.

“Please sit,” the woman said, gesturing to the gathered chairs. “We have a fair bit of paperwork!”

“Thank you, Miss…?”

“Edgecombe,” the woman replied. “Felicity Edgecombe.” She smiled at the twins as the family sat. “And which of you is Rosie?”

“Me,” Rosie said.

“Wonderful. You are probably familiar with my daughter, Marietta.”

“Ohhh,” Rosie nodded. “Yeah, she’s going to be a sixth year, right?”

“Right, my dear,” Mrs Edgecombe said pleasantly.

“So, what all is happening today?” Daddy asked.

He was starting to sound suspicious and even a little irritable. Mum put a calming hand on top of his, giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Well, the adoptions, of course,” Mrs Edgecombe smiled. “We have all the proper documentation here. We spent all morning putting it together for you. This is such an open and shut case, we saw no reason to stretch it out longer than necessary.”

The little room fell silent. Mrs Edgecombe kept smiling cheerfully, dipping a quill into an ink bottle, sliding it and a piece of parchment across the table to Daddy and Mum. “Would you like to start with Nanette and Rosie first or Harriet?”

Harriet couldn’t swallow. Or really breathe. They were making it this easy? Something was wrong. Something had to be wrong.

She felt numb as she watched Daddy and Mum fill out the paperwork. Her palms were sweating. She lost her sense of time. This couldn’t be it. This just couldn’t be. Could it?

“There we are,” Mrs Edgecombe said warmly, smiling at the twins. “You are now—officially—Nanette Dusk and Rosie Dusk. Congratulations, dears.”

Nanette and Rosie grinned, hugging each other, then Daddy and Mum, and finally Harriet. Harriet glanced at the clock on Mrs Edgecombe’s wall. An hour had passed. Now it was time for her paperwork.

Harriet scooted her chair forward. The minutes ticked past as she and Daddy went over the papers. They would pass off the quill, signing here and there. Harriet still couldn’t wrap her mind around this. There had to be a catch.

Finally, they came to it. The last piece of parchment. It was the name-change form.

“Whatever you want, sweetie,” Daddy said, squeezing Harriet’s hand.

Harriet thought hard. All her life, she’d been Harriet Potter. The world knew her as Harriet Potter.

Harriet took a deep breath, turning her gaze to the ceiling. What should she do? Her name was one of the only things she had left of her birth parents.

Harriet looked over her new family. They were her family, now. She thought about this past summer. They had been with her through thick and thin. Castillon had told Harriet that proper family was love, not blood. Grampa Zeb and Gramma Lisa had said much the same.

_‘Nah, child. No handshakes, we’re to be family! And families hug.’_

Harriet closed her eyes and took another deep breath. She came to a decision. She put the quill back in the ink, dabbed it off, and put the tip to the parchment. There were three lines left to fill out: _First Name(s), Middle Name(s),_ and _Last Name(s)._ Harriet nodded.

_Harriet_

_Lily_

_Potter-Dusk_

 

Harriet put the quill back in the ink. Mrs Edgecombe took the parchment and gently blew on it to dry the ink, before stamping it with a large stamp of the symbol of the Ministry of Magic.

Harriet looked up at Daddy. There were tears in his eyes. And Mum’s eyes. And the twins’ eyes. Harriet suddenly had a hard time seeing. Harriet vaguely heard Mrs Edgecombe coo with happiness as Harriet threw herself into the family hug, and everyone broke down.

## * * * *

Harriet kept feeling like her knees were going to give out. Percy signed all documents as an official witness. It was official. It was all real. She’d been adopted. Daniel and Aurora were her legal parents. Nanette and Rosie were her legal sisters. Her name was now officially: _Harriet Lily Potter-Dusk_.

They went to the Leaky Cauldron for a late lunch. Harriet checked herself on the threshold. The last time she was in the Leaky Cauldron was the day Solomon Kinney blew up the headquarters of _The Daily Prophet_.

Daddy gently put a hand on her shoulder. She took a deep breath and stepped inside. The Leaky Cauldron was quiet. There were only a few other patrons, none of whom looked up as the little family entered.

It all felt surreal. Harriet had just changed her name and had real parents, and there was no celebration. Most time anything happened to Harriet, there was some big celebration. But they had not been prepared for what happened.

Instead, she was taking a seat at the Leaky Cauldron with her new family. They took their order from Tom the innkeeper. He did congratulate them and told them all that lunch was on the house to celebrate.

Harriet felt as though she was having an out of body experience as she ate her food. The family talked and laughed as Mum detailed the chores the girls were expected to take care of while home. They were to keep their rooms tidy, help with dusting and sweeping, help clean up after meals.

Harriet was used to all of these tasks after living with the Dursleys. In fact, she was used to doing almost all of the housekeeping. But something about the idea felt different now. Now Harriet would be taking care of her room, in her house, with her family. Harriet suddenly felt the urge to start sweeping at once.

Lunch finished, Daddy and Mum gave each other little nods and smiled at Harriet.

“Well, Harriet,” Daddy said, “we did have a little bit of a surprise planned for today.”

“Really?” Harriet asked. She glanced at the twins who both shrugged.

“It’s a surprise,” Mum added, smiling softly. “But… it’s something we think you need.”

They rose and headed back out the entrance to the muggle street. Harriet was surprised to see Kingsley Shacklebolt and Tonks waiting for them with a Ministry car.

“Wotcher, Dusk family!” Tonks grinned.

“Greetings,” Kingsley said. “All went well?”

“I’d… I’d say so,” Daddy said. Harriet noted that even he sounded a bit gobsmacked.

Kingsley narrowed his eyes. “Did something go wrong?”

“No, no,” Mum said. “Quite the opposite…”

“They made it all official,” Harriet said. “I’m… I’m Harriet Potter-Dusk now.”

“How wonderful!” Kingsley boomed, patting Daddy hard on the back, nearly knocking him over.

“Oh, congratulations!” Tonk exclaimed, her voice almost a squeal, hugging Mum tightly, then Harriet.

“Th-thanks,” Harriet said. “Where are we going?”

“Oooh, it’s a surprise, is it?” Tonks asked Daddy and Mum, grinning.

Daddy smiled rubbing his shoulder. “Yeah, yes, it is.”

“Well, let’s get on our way, shall we?” Tonks said excitedly.

“Yes, let’s,” Mum said, ushering the teens to the car.

Harriet had been in these special Ministry cars before. They were nowhere near as nice as the Flamel’s cars, but they were certainly an improvement on the Knight Bus. However, after the first-hour travel at normal Muggle driving speeds, Harriet was starting to wonder if they should have taken it instead.

They passed the time talking about the upcoming school year.

“Once you three are safely in Hogwarts and started classes, that’s when your father and I will go on our honeymoon,” Mum explained.

“Where are you going?” Rosie asked.

“We’re going to tour the mainland,” Daddy replied. “A few stops in France, through the Low Countries, down into Italy.”

“Ooooh,” the twins grinned.

Harriet was trying to fight down anxiety. Daddy and Mum were going to be gone?

“How long?” Harriet asked.

“Oh, about a week,” Daddy said.

_Okay, that’s not so bad,_ Harriet thought.

“I know I’m going to try out for our football team,” Rosie said.

“Good on you,” Harriet smiled.

“Thanks,” Rosie grinned. “It looked fun last year. And the teams are larger than Quidditch, so I’ll have a better chance.”

“What about you, Nan?” Mum asked.

Nan shrugged. “Dunno. Not much sounds that great.”

“No?” Mum asked.

Nan shrugged again. “They need more art stuff.”

Mum smiled indulgently. “Of course, dear. Maybe you can be like Harriet’s friend, Marcus, and start up some art programs at Hogwarts?”

Nan went ghostly pale. That was certainly more than she’d bargained for.

“There will be some of your old friends from Rathlin coming to Hogwarts now,” Mum nudged. “I’m sure they’d appreciate that as well, and you wouldn’t have to do it alone?”

This seemed to return some of the colour to Nan’s face.

“I know I’m taking on a few Rathlin students as interns this year in the shop,” Daddy said. “They’re in fashion design. Maybe you could make designs for them?”

Nan’s face went from pale straight to red.

“Think you’ll be captain this year?” Rosie asked Harriet.

Harriet scoffed. “Me? A fifth year? Not likely. I bet it’ll be Angelina.”

“Lame.”

Harriet laughed. “Angelina’s a great chaser, and she’d be a good captain. She’s got two years of experience on me.”

The warm summer sun was beginning to make Harriet sleepy. She pulled out her Walkman and headphones. She rested her head against the window, closing her eyes as she listened to the sound of Finn’s voice.

_Where are you now? Are you okay? Who’s going to find you, now? I’ll have to tell you all about being Harriet Potter-Dusk, now. It’s crazy… I never thought something like this would happen._

What felt like an instant later, Daddy was shaking her shoulder gently.

“Rise and shine,” he said smiling softly. “We’re here.”

Harriet rubbed the sleep from her eyes and looked out the window. They were parked on a sleepy street, lined with humble cottages. Harriet blinked.

“Where are we?”

Daddy gave her a gentle smile. “Godric’s Hollow, sweetie.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. Why did that sound familiar?

“It’s the village where your parents lived…” Mum said, resting a hand lightly on Harriet’s shoulder. “And where they’re buried.”

Harriet stared.

Daddy sighed. “We… We thought a lot about it after the Occlumency incident. Before we really went through with the adoption, we wanted to give you your chance to see them. Naturally, that apparently got scuppered, but we still think it’s important.”

Harriet felt frozen. She slowly looked out the window. They were in the village where Voldemort had killed her parents while trying to kill her.

Rosie took Harriet’s hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze.

“O-okay,” Harriet muttered, putting away her Walkman.

She climbed out after the twins, groaning and stretching her legs. The summer was still hot and dry, but the lawns were all green and full, unlike Privet Drive.

“We’ll wait here for you,” Kingsley said.

“Thanks,” Daddy said, and together the family started down the street.

Harriet kept glancing around, as though expecting the house to leap out at her from behind a bush. She didn’t know what she was supposed to be feeling. She was walking hand in hand with the twins, alongside Daddy and Mum.

Reality started to leak into Harriet’s mind. It wasn’t pretend anymore. This was her family. Her real family. Complete and legal. She had a family.

They stopped at a gate in a garden fence in front of an old house. Daddy opened it and everyone filed in. Harriet looked up at the humble, two-story home. Harriet noticed an ancient looking cat slinking along the inside of the fence. It sat shakily, watching the family. By its fluffiness and size, Harriet was sure it was a Kneazle. What’s more, its bright yellow eyes seemed fixed on Harriet.

“Is this…?” Harriet asked, gesturing to the house.

“Not yet,” Daddy said.

They had almost reached the door when it opened. A frail, but kindly looking old woman stepped outside. She looked as old for a human as the Kneazle was for a cat.

“Hello, Madame Bagshot,” Daddy said politely.

_Bagshot? Why do I know that name?_

“Hello, Daniel,” Madame Bagshot said in a voice as feeble as she looked. “Please, call me Bathilda.”

Madame Bagshot’s eyes found Harriet’s.

“Goodness, you’re ever so much taller than the last time I saw you, Harriet Potter.”

“This is Bathilda Bagshot,” Daddy explained. “She wrote _A History of Magic_ , and knew your parents.”

“Ohhhh,” Harriet said, shaking Bathilda’s wrinkled old hand. “I thought I recognized the name.”

Bathilda gave a wheezing chuckle. “Quite alright, dear. My subject was never terribly interesting to most people.”

“I’ve liked it better since Professor Stratton took over for Professor Binns,” Harriet admitted. “He makes it interesting.”

“Stratton?” Bathilda asked, a sudden twinkle in her eye. “Not Desmond Stratton?”

“Yeah?”

“Lucky girls,” Bathilda winked. “I remember quite fondly the hours we spent together… He studied the books while I studied that chiselled jaw and that smooth mocha skin and that Adonis chest of his… Well, ancient history now,” Bathilda said.

Rosie giggled but Nan cocked an eyebrow.

“And these are our daughters Nanette and Rosie,” Daddy said, ushering the twins forward.

“Nice to meet you,” Rosie grinned. “I’ve read your book cover to cover so many times. I’m a Ravenclaw.”

Bathilda chuckled. “But of course you are: yes, I can see it in your eyes, inquisitive, and bright, you are.”

Bathilda bent her eyes on Nan. “And you dear: quiet, but stoic… hidden strength. You’re a Gryffindor.”

Nan’s eyes widened. “Yeah! I am.”

Bathilda chuckled. “You get to know people fairly well when you live to be my age.”

Harriet glanced towards the fence. The Kneazle was still watching them. Harriet suddenly felt suspicion rising. What if it was a Death Eater or one of Kinney and Crouch’s spies in disguise?

Bathilda followed Harriet’s gaze and smiled. “Ahh yes, it is feeding time, isn’t it?”

Bathilda tottered back into her house and returned a minute later with a tin of wet cat food. She stepped down from the front step onto her garden path and bent shakily, setting the tin down on the top step. The Kneazle didn’t move.

“He won’t come while we’re here,” Bathilda said. “The old thing’s never been tame. He’s wandered this neighbourhood for years. He keeps the mice and squirrels at bay, but he’s never harmed my birdies.”

Bathilda walked over to a birdfeeder, scooping out some seed from a covered tin pail and pouring it into the top of the feeder. At once, there was a twittering and from every bush and nearby tree little songbirds descended upon the feeder.

Harriet smiled, watching. Somehow, despite how little Bathilda was, Harriet had an image of Ronnie many years from now, feeding her beloved birds in her garden.

“Well, now that’s been taken care of, let us carry on!” Bathilda said, taking an old walking stick and starting for the gate.

The family followed her, turning right out of the gate this time. Harriet glanced back over her shoulder. The old Kneazle had made its way to the dish and was eating whilst lying on its old belly. Harriet shook her head and returned her attention to where she was going.

Harriet’s jaw dropped. This house had to be the one. The hedge was completely overgrown, as was the lawn, which was strewn with wreckage. The house was mostly intact, except for the right half of the top-floor which had been blown apart. Harriet could tell from the painting of the walls in the old room that it had once been a child’s bedroom, and she could even make out a bit of what looked like an old crib.

Her crib.

Bathilda sighed sadly looking up at the house.

“Yes, this is it,” she said. “It has remained in status all these years… kept as a sad reminder, and a beacon of hope.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. _Hope?_

Bathilda put her hand on the gate. Harriet started as a sign forced its way up through the overgrown hedge. Harriet noticed golden writing on the sign. She leaned closer to read.

 

_On this spot, on the night of 31 October 1981, Lily and James Potter lost their lives._

_Their daughter, Harriet, remains the only witch ever to have survived the Killing Curse._

_Their house, invisible to Muggles, has been left in its ruined state as a monument to the Potters and as a reminder of the violence that tore their family apart._

 

Harriet’s hand was shaking as she placed it on the sign. It was then she noticed this was not the only writing on the sign. All around the golden inscription was little scribbles here and there. Some were names and messages left in everlasting ink. Others had merely carved their initials.

 

_We’ll never forget._

_Your sacrifice saved the world. Always in our thoughts._

_The wizarding world owes you and Harriet everything._

_Long live Harriet Potter!_

 

Harriet blinked in surprise. All of the messages were like that. They were all messages of hope and thanks.

Daddy put an arm around Harriet’s shoulder.

“We can’t go in,” Daddy said. “The house isn’t safe… but… We thought you deserved to see it.”

Harriet wrapped an arm around his waist. “Thanks…” she wiped away a tear with the back of her hand.

“So many fond memories,” Bathilda sighed. “You were such a little bundle of joy.”

“Y-yeah?”

Bathilda smiled. “Oh yes… I don’t think a day went by I didn’t stop in for tea. You came to expect sweets, you little scamp,” Bathilda laughed. “Lucky for you, I never forgot to bring them. Particularly not my treacle tarts. I remember the way your face lit up the first time you tasted it at your first birthday. Your parents were so frustrated, you refused to eat anything else for a week after!”

Harriet flushed. Treacle was still her favourite. Bathilda Bagshot had introduced her to it?

A movement in the corner of her eye made her look back towards Bathilda’s house. The old Kneazle had followed them. It sat again, just watching. It would glance to the house, then back to Harriet, before lifting a shaky old paw and licking it.

The group began to move away from the house, following old Bathilda. Harriet kept watching the Kneazle over her shoulder. The old feline watched them, then wearily climbed through the gate into the garden of the old house. If Harriet hadn’t known better, she would have thought the Kneazle had a satisfied look on its face. Harriet didn’t know why, but she suddenly had a sad feeling that Bathilda was never going to see the old Kneazle again as its old, fluffy tail slid out of sight.

“You’ll appreciate this, Miss Potter,” Bathilda said, distracting Harriet as she pointed with her walking stick to a nearby house. “Once, where that house now stands, was the shop of Bowman Wright. He forged the first Golden Snitch.”

“Wow,” Harriet said. “That’s a coincidence…”

Bathilda chortled. “When magic’s involved, there’s little coincidence left, my dear. Magic is the essence that binds this world together!”

They were heading in the direction of a town square. There was a tall obelisk in the middle and a little church just past it. Bathilda made for the obelisk. Harriet could see some dates on the obelisk, marking the first and second World Wars, with lists of names underneath.

No sooner had they reached it than the obelisk began to change. Harriet stared as now, not an obelisk, but a statue sat. It was a man with untidy hair and glasses, a woman with long, flowing hair, and kind, pretty face, and a baby girl with a mop of hair snuggled in the woman’s arms.

Harriet was numb again. It was her birth family. It was Lily and James, holding her as an infant. There was pride all over James’ face. Lily’s was locked in an expression of joy and love. Harriet could tell she was cooing. They were both looking down on Harriet as though she was the only thing in the world.

In their stone form, they almost looked like the shadows that had come out of Lord Voldemort’s wand. Harriet half expected them to look up at her. She put a hand on James’ cheek. It was hot to the touch from the sun, but definitely stone.

Harriet looked up at Daddy. The look on his face as he looked at the statue seemed to mirror the turmoil Harriet felt inside. She reached over, taking his hand. He gave her a sad smile.

“Yes… This was erected shortly after…” Bathilda said. “Daresay I feel a sense of attachment to it… being the one who took the photograph that was used.”

Harriet bit her lip, returning her attention to the statue. Bathilda had already started on again, this time in the direction of the church. Harriet kept holding Daddy’s hand as they followed. Harriet couldn’t help but notice a change had come over Bathilda. She no longer had quite the same spring in her step as they neared the church. Harriet knew Bathilda was old, but somehow, she didn’t think it was age slowing her now. Her head hung lower than it had.

They passed through the kissing gate in front of the church. Rather than go inside, they headed around back. To Harriet’s surprise, Bathilda no longer took the lead. Daddy moved ahead, instead, Harriet’s hand still tight in his. Harriet glanced around the graveyard but didn’t really pay much attention.

She shivered. Even in the bright early evening sun, Harriet couldn’t help but be reminded of the graveyard where Lord Voldemort had returned to his body. Where she’d seen the shadows of her parents and heard them speak to her.

Harriet stopped. A name caught her eye. Daddy stopped, looking back. Harriet moved closer to the tombstone in question. It was such a unique name there was no way Harriet could mistake it, nor could it be a coincidence.

_Kendra Dumbledore and her daughter Ariana_

There were dates of birth and death after each.

“Dumbledore,” Harriet said, running a fingertip along the name.

She looked up at Daddy and Mum. They both looked as surprised as Harriet did. Harriet looked at Bathilda. Her aged face was full of pain. Harriet could tell as she looked in the old woman’s eyes that Bathilda did not want to be here. Too many bad memories. So many loved ones and good people were buried here. People who’d died tragically, far too soon. Harriet’s parents. Dumbledore’s mother and sister.

Harriet winced, rubbing her temple. Bathilda rubbed hers at the same time, suddenly looking at Harriet with an expression of shock.

“Are you okay?” Daddy asked, drawing his wand. “Was it your scar?”

“No, no,” Harriet said. “Not my scar. Must… just be the heat. And kinda overwhelmed…”

Daddy nodded understandably, but Harriet noticed that he did not put away his wand. Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet noticed that Mum had her wand out as well.

Harriet kicked herself. She must have used her Legilimency again without meaning to. It seemed to happen most when around people who were upset. So, this was Dumbledore’s mother and sister? Harriet had heard of Professor Dumbledore’s brother, but not a sister.

“They’re right over here,” Daddy said, pointing a few rows of gravestones past the Dumbledores.

Her parents’ grave stood out. It was made of white marble and seemed to glow amongst the other darker stones. Harriet could even read it without having to kneel, though she did anyway.

_James Potter, born 27 March 1960, died 31 October 1981_

_Lily Potter, born 30 January 1960, died 31 October 1981_

_The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death._

 

Harriet rested her hand on the stone. She was here. She was at her parents’ grave.

“Hi,” Harriet said, without thinking.

She sat cross-legged in front of the stone. She heard Daddy backing away. They were giving her space. She appreciated it.

“I… I changed my name today… kind of…” Harriet continued. “Potter-Dusk.”

Harriet took a deep breath. It was an odd sensation. On the one hand, she’d never thought she’d be here, never thought she’d have the chance to speak to them. On the other, she seemed to know exactly what she wanted to say.

“They took me away from your sister’s, Mum,” Harriet went on. “I’m legally theirs now. I have sisters. Twins. I love them…”

Nan sniffled behind Harriet.

“And they love me… and it’s wonderful…” Harriet wiped her eye again. “I’ve been trying to be a good big sister for them like you told me… but I don’t know how well I’m doing… I have a home now. A real home. My own bedroom. Totally mine. I have an owl. Her name’s Hedwig. Hagrid got her for me for my birthday the first time he took me to Diagon Alley.”

Harriet looked down at the grass beneath her. They were right there, under her. The closest she’d been to them physically since their deaths.

“I’m a seeker on the Quidditch team. I was the youngest in a hundred years, they say. I have a _Firebolt._ It’s the fastest broom they make. Sirius gave it to me. He’s out of Azkaban. He’s… he’s hurt now… but they say he’ll get better. He’s even met someone… Professor Spring. She likes motorbikes like him… Remus is back, too. Everyone’s back, except you… and Pettigrew….”

Harriet sniffled.

“I have lots of friends… one’s a Slytherin. Her name’s Dora. Scott’s a Ravenclaw. Hermione, Kieran, Marcus and Ronnie are Gryffindors like me. We go on adventures with your old map and invisibility cloak, Dad. We get into all kinds of trouble and… I guess… you’d probably be proud of that…”

Harriet ran a hand through her hair. “I wish I could have met you,” Harriet choked, her vision going completely blurred as emotion washed over her at once. “I really do. I want to say I miss you because I feel like that’s what I’m supposed to say, but I can’t. You were good people and I’m only here because of you, not just because you gave birth to me, but… you gave your lives for me.”

Harriet looked back at the rest of her family. Nan was crying, while Rosie was just holding on. Daddy and Mum’s faces were both wet with tears. Bathilda had moved off, her back to the group, leaning more heavily on her walking stick than ever. Harriet noticed that Daddy and Mum still had their wands out.

Harriet returned her attention to her parents’ grave. “And… I’ll be around longer… because they love me now… and they’re my family now, too… and they’re willing to do just as much for me as you did… and so… I want you to know…” Harriet was finding it harder and harder to string words together “that I’m happy. That I’m safe as I could ever be… and that I love you…”

Harriet said no more as she broke down completely.


	13. Going Back

“The monsters under our beds are never vanquished until we get the courage to stick our heads under and face them.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet was loving every minute of having her own home. It was the freest she’d felt in years. She had her own real private place to go whenever she felt like she needed to be alone.

They ate together as a family at every meal, just the five of them. Remus, for the time being, was living in the new headquarters to help keep up the appearance of it being lived in. Harriet also thought perhaps he wanted some privacy for his and Tonks’ slow-burning romance.

Remus was always the most aloof of the remaining Marauders, despite the fact Harriet had met him first of the three. He was a bitten werewolf, and so went mad at the full moon. He and his kind were treated like outcasts by both humans and true werewolf society. Harriet supposed that had a lot to do with him not wanting to make strong connections with people.

Despite Harriet’s happiness, there was a tiny part of her mind that still could not quite accept this was real. She kept expecting something to happen, to wake up from this wonderful dream. She supposed her parents’ overly protective attitudes weren’t helping. They wouldn’t let Harriet and the twins go into Hogsmeade with them, for instance.

She kept her room far neater than she’d ever kept her room in Privet Drive. The fact that it was hers made her care for it far deeper than she had anywhere else. She wondered how long the feeling would last. The twins had already been told off twice for leaving their room a total mess.

She thought of the Weasleys and the Burrow. True, Bill and Charlie’s old rooms had been turned into storage but were still considered their rooms. Would that happen to Percy’s?

What about Harriet’s room? Would it still be thought of as her room years after she’d grown up and found her own place to live? Would Daddy and Mum turn it into storage?

Harriet also thought of Godric’s Hollow, and the monuments people had left to her and her family. How many things were going to become famous just because they were connected to her? Would Mountain Home become famous after this was all over? Would people pilgrim to Hogsmeade and trek up the mountain path to see the house where Harriet Potter once lived?

Harriet tried not to think too much about that. She didn’t know how any of this was going to end. What if Lord Voldemort won?

Lord Voldemort. What was he up to? Everyone was so distracted by Kinney, and the off the rails Ministry, it seemed no one was thinking about him. Although maybe they were. Now that Order meetings were happening in town, Harriet had no ability to eavesdrop.

For all the impact that Kinney had on her life so far, she still felt more worried about Lord Voldemort. From all she could tell, Kinney just liked creating chaos. It was Lord Voldemort who wanted to take over the world; who hated and wanted to subjugate Muggles and Muggle-borns.

What was he doing? He’d come back, he risked everything doing it and even lost some of his Death Eaters to vampires. He had to be planning something.

Harriet would try and turn her mind to happier things after too long thinking about Voldemort. One of the best things to think about was the letters from her friends congratulating her on the adoption. Harriet had sent them letters, but apparently, _The Daily Prophet_ had made it front page news they very day it happened.

Harriet didn’t care about that. It was so nice to finally get letters from her friends that were happy, rather than full of worry and caution. Harriet didn’t even have to open the envelopes to begin smiling when they arrived. All of the letters had “-Dusk” added onto “Potter” in excited scrawling. They were what made Harriet’s new reality sink in the most: picking up those letters from her best friends and reading her new name written out on them.

This wasn’t all that was weighing on Harriet’s mind. There was also that secret vial she had hidden away in her trunk. This was confusing Harriet more than anything. Harriet knew that Castillon had to have been using Elixir of Life. The substance in the vial certainly looked just like what Castillon had hidden and been drinking.

And yet, there had been that vial he was holding just before the Portkey took them away. Was that the real vial? Had he tricked her into taking a fake one? But why would he do that? Did he have more? This line of thinking invariably maddened Harriet as well.

Harriet and her sisters spent most evenings in the study room. Since Mum was going to be gone for their first week back at Hogwarts, she wanted to make sure her girls would not fall behind on their Astronomy studies. Harriet made sure to bring Hedwig in with her. Hedwig was happy for the company and would nuzzle up to the side of Harriet’s head, often falling asleep as Harriet studied.

Having Kreacher around was a nice addition as well. He did not really clean around Mountain Home, but he seemed the happier for the company. He did seem to enjoy helping with the cooking. Everything he cooked was delicious, the rival of any feast she’d had at Hogwarts.

They rarely saw the Order, other than Remus. They had not yet had the chance to see Sirius, either. The Order thought it was too big a risk trying to take them down to St Mungo’s. Fortunately, Kreacher visited Sirius daily, and so could give the girls updates.

The news was usually good and bad. Sirius was mending, but his spirits were low. He’d taken the news of his temporary paralysis hard, and the fact that even with being able to walk again, he would always have a limp and pain. According to the healers, Sirius wouldn’t even be able to begin training his legs to work again for another three months.

This news had affected Harriet as well. She wouldn’t be able to see Sirius again for a long time by the sound of it. He’d been placed in the long-term care ward. Both Daddy and Remus had a hard time during their check-ins with Sirius. They always came back seeming deflated and put out. Sirius must be in rough shape, Harriet thought.

On top of that, Harriet was worrying more and more about Finn. She wondered if she could somehow let Fern’s friend/not-friend Holly Cambridge know that Sirius had been hurt and couldn’t look for Finn anymore. How long could he live on his own? He wasn’t eighteen yet. He didn’t know who he was anymore.

Hedwig alone did not seem overly thrilled about their new living arrangements. She was used to living in rooms with proper windows that she could fly in and out of at will. Here, Harriet only had an enchanted window that showed what was happening outside, but not a proper window.

To make matters worse, Daddy and Mum weren’t allowing the owls out at all, and particularly not Hedwig. As snowy owls weren’t native to Britain, Hedwig tended to stand out. Added to that was the fact Harriet was famous, and so most people knew Hedwig by sight as well.

DIDS, on the other hand, was quite enjoying himself. He did not sleep nearly as much and often spent his time snuffling around the new house, as though he also knew it was his home. He spent the first full day waddling about, sniffing at every piece of furniture in the house.

Harriet had to puzzle as she watched him. He wasn’t truly alive, just a charmed piece of plastic. He didn’t have to eat or drink, nor even breathe as far as Harriet could tell. And yet, the more the trio played with him, the more alive he seemed. When they travelled, and he was locked away, he grew lethargic, and couldn’t move as well.

Their favourite game quickly became chase. Harriet especially enjoyed this as it gave Hedwig some exercise and a distraction from being cooped up all the time. DIDS would chase the girls around the house, while Hedwig would try and catch DIDS. This proved trickier than Hedwig bargained for. DIDS was slipperier than any of her preferred mice or frogs. He was also so light he could turn on a dime if he was on a rug, though he had considerable difficulty running on the hardwood. He also had sharp eye-sight and could spot her within seconds if she moved.

That was where Harriet found herself two nights before their trip to London to get on the Hogwarts Express. Harriet was both excited to see her friends again and travel on the historic train and amused that she was going to travel so far just to take a train back to where she started in the first place.

Harriet ducked behind the sofa as the twins darted past her towards the hallway again. Harriet could hear DIDS’ little skittering plastic claws on the hardwood. He was snuffling around, then went quiet. Harriet bent down, peeking under the couch. DIDS wasn’t there. She sat back and peeked over the top of the couch. Her nose touched something pointy and plastic. She glanced down to find herself nose to nose-horn with DIDS.

“Hey!” Harriet laughed. “You’ve learned how to jump, you little sneak.”

DIDS hissed and lashed his tail about playfully, scampering in a little circle.

“That’s no fair,” Rosie said, coming back in the room as DIDS celebrated his own cleverness. “He just bites us.”

“And does that,” Nan added as DIDS hopped onto Harriet’s shoulder, scampered across to the side facing the girls and hissed at them defensively.

Harriet rolled her eyes, setting DIDS back on the couch.

“DIDS, be nice,” Harriet said. “Those are my sisters, they’re our family now.”

DIDS simply sniffed before walking in a circle and settling down on the soft afghan folded over the back of the couch. He was snoring at once. Harriet just shook her head in disbelief, before bursting out laughing when DIDS’ nap was interrupted by a triumphant hoot as Hedwig snatched him right off the afghan.

## * * * *

Harriet’s feet hit solid ground. She was expecting it now, accustomed to Portkey travel, and kept her feet. The twins even remained standing, though they did wobble a bit. They were in an old alleyway a couple of blocks from King’s Cross. DIDS, however, was clinging to Harriet’s shoulder, trembling. Clearly, he wasn’t a very big fan of Portkey travel at all.

The Order was waiting. Harriet felt a little amused with herself when she looked around for the French Aurors and Captain Kane. Of course, they weren’t there. The French Aurors’ mission was over, and Captain Kane was likely getting ready for the start of the school year.

Harriet was still excited. Maybe it was childish, but after seeing her friends, there was one thing about the train ride to Hogwarts that Harriet looked forward to more than any other: the violinist. It wasn’t just how well he played, it was that Harriet seemed to be the only person who could hear him. She’d met him on her very first trip to Hogwarts. She’d given him a galleon. She would have given him more each time she came through King’s Cross, but she’d never seen him again; only heard him playing merrily.

Harriet had trouble moving slow enough for the Order’s liking. Particularly Mad-Eye Moody, who was hampered by his false leg. Harriet kept her distance from him. He still made her uncomfortable, having spent too much time around Crouch, Jr wearing Moody’s appearance. It didn’t help he was generally gruff and unpleasant, anyway.

King’s Cross soon came into view. Harriet was grinning ear to ear as she did her best not to run. The King’s Cross violinist was as much a part of the Hogwarts Express journey for her as the lunch trolley full of sweets, or Hagrid summoning the first years to cross the lake.

He was something like a guardian angel. Harriet was sure she had heard his music at other times. She was sure it was him. Most any time she was upset she would hear his violin playing happy, cheering music. And what’s more, no one else could ever hear it, either.

Harriet stopped, looking around. She concentrated hard, listening. All around her she heard bustling travellers, scratchy announcements over the loudspeakers, and the sound of trains.

Her face fell. She couldn’t hear it. She kept listening, turning in circles. He wasn’t here.

“What’s wrong?” Daddy asked his voice tense.

“The Violinist…” Harriet said. “He’s not here…”

“Violinist?” Mum asked.

“Yeah… I saw him the first time I came to Hogwarts… I always hear him playing…”

Daddy and Mum exchanged looks. Harriet gave her head a shake, feeling shame. She was so stupid. Of course, the violinist wasn’t here. He’d probably been run off by the Muggle station guards; thought to be too suspicious.

“Doesn’t matter,” Harriet said, trying not to let her disappointment show too strongly.

She saw Daddy give Mad-Eye a look. Mad-Eye nodded and narrowed his normal eye in concentration. His magical eye was covered by a bowler hat, but Harriet was sure it was scanning the area, spinning around horribly. Mad-Eye shook his head.

Harriet wondered what he was looking for. The violinist? Or just anything suspicious?

They made their way to the barrier that marked the entrance to Platform 9¾. Mad-Eye and Remus went through first. Harriet glanced at the large clock. They had almost a half an hour until the train left. Harriet realized this was the earliest she had ever arrived for the Hogwarts Express. Usually, they’re arriving in the nick of time.

Harriet followed Remus through. A sense of peace washed over Harriet as Platform 9¾ came into view. The Hogwarts Express was as big and beautiful as ever; billowing steam. The platform wasn’t as crowded as usual, and the din of cats and owls wasn’t nearly as overpowering.

Despite her disappointment about the violinist, Harriet found herself amused. Apparently, she was far from the only one to arrive close to the deadline. The rest of the group moved through quite quickly. Unlike most times travelling on the Hogwarts Express, they had no luggage. All their belongings had already been taken to Hogwarts the night before by the Order.

Despite the sparsely populated platform, Harriet did see some familiar faces. Hannah Abbot and Ernie Macmillan of Hufflepuff were nearby. They were both talking excitedly, showing each other their prefect badges.

Harriet felt a twinge of sympathy for Jeremy and Isabella, the two Hufflepuffs she knew best. However, as Jeremy was a true werewolf, she supposed he wouldn’t mind being passed over for the responsibility of prefect. He had enough to worry about, just as Harriet did.

Less welcome were Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini. Harriet noted, even more horribly, that Crabbe and Goyle now seemed to have drifted to Zabini as their new leader. Where was Malfoy?

Her stomach churned as she noted that Blaise and Pansy also had prefect badges. Pansy’s partner in wickedness, Pixie Fanfarró, kept giving Pansy’s badge jealous glances. Harriet pondered Zabini. Why had he gotten the badge and not Malfoy? Wasn’t Malfoy Professor Snape’s favourite?

Rosie was looking around, anxious and bouncing on the balls of her feet.

“What’s up?” Harriet asked.

“Looking for Niamh… she’s supposed to be coming to Hogwarts, now.”

Harriet remembered Rosie was friends with a girl from Rathlin named Niamh Drooble, a cousin of Kieran’s and part of the Drooble family, famous for their blowing gum. Harriet looked around, wondering how many other new faces she would see. So far the only new faces were those of little first-years.

“There you are!”

Harriet’s smile grew as she saw Kieran step down from the train. He took it slow with his heavily braced knee. Harriet hurried over and hugged him.

“So happy for you—ow!”

Kieran stepped back, his head tilted oddly to the side. Harriet gasped at the sight of DIDS dangling from Kieran’s ear by his pointy-fanged mouth.

“DIDS!” Harriet gasped, taking hold of the toy dragon.

DIDS let go at once at her touch but kept hissing and growling at Kieran.

“Bad DIDS, very bad DIDS,” Harriet said. “No biting my friends.”

DIDS didn’t seem to notice. Harriet rolled her eyes and stuffed him in her hoodie’s pocket as Kieran rubbed his ear.

“No blood,” he muttered, before hitching a smile back on his face. “Anyway, I’m so happy for you. You have a real family.”

“I know,” Harriet smiled, doing her best to keep her emotions down.

Kieran gave Rosie and Nan congratulatory hugs, too. “And you two; you get a real dad and a big sister out of this.”

“Awww, thank you,” Rosie grinned.

“Thanks,” Nan said, just loud enough to be heard.

Harriet saw that Nan’s face had gone almost as red as the Gryffindor banners as Kieran hugged her. Nan was determinedly not looking at Kieran, her head low to let her hair fall over her face.

Kieran either didn’t notice or ignored it as he returned his attention to Harriet. “I like that, ‘Potter-Dusk’.”

“Thanks,” Harriet replied, unable to stop smiling. “Which compartment are you in?”

“There’s no hurry,” Kieran said, a little too quickly. Harriet noted his face had lost some colour.

“What’s wrong?” Rosie asked.

“Nothing,” Kieran forced himself to smile. “Just everyone else should be arriving soon,” his face bloomed with relief “Look, there’s Scott!”

Harriet barely had time to turn around before Scott’s laugh filled her ears and his arms wrapped around her shoulders.

“Congratulations!”

Harriet gave a shrieking laugh as he lifted her up and spun her around. Harriet felt as though she was glowing as she hugged him back. Scott set her back down, grinning ear to ear.

Finally, something had happened to Harriet that had her friends smiling and excited. Harriet couldn’t remember the last time that happened.

“So, do we have a compartment?” Scott asked.

Harriet saw him catch Kieran’s eye, and Kieran give a quick head-shake.

“Okay, what?” Harriet asked, giving Kieran a shrewd look. “I know something’s wrong.”

Kieran blanched again. “I… well… you… um…”

Scott gave Kieran a bemused look.

Kieran sighed. “Sorry, just want you to be happy, and well… I didn’t want to remind you of bad things…”

“Bad things?”

“Aye, you remember that article that… er… came out after the attack? That… that first one?”

Harriet’s heart sank. “The one where they thought I was an Obscurus?”

Scott groaned miserably. Kieran didn’t need to say anymore. Harriet knew where this was going. Kieran must have overheard other students gossiping about the article. Given Kieran’s reluctance, that could only mean they thought it was true.

“Well, won’t be any worse than when people thought I was the Heir of Slytherin I suppose,” Harriet muttered.

Rosie and Nan both held Harriet’s hands. Harriet squeezed theirs back, appreciatively.

“Well, now that cat’s out of the bag, I guess we’ll get on,” Kieran said.

“We’ll wait for Emma,” Rosie said.

“You sure?” Harriet asked.

“Uh-huh,” Nan smiled, she and Rosie waving her off.

Harriet glanced around the platform as Kieran began helping Scott load his trunk on the train. Everywhere she looked, there were Order members standing guard. They had spread out along the platform in twos and threes. They were acting as casually as they could, but Harriet noted how none of them was truly looking at each other. They were all looking past each other, watching the platform.

Harriet didn’t blame them. Voldemort had been so quiet lately, he must be up to something. An attack on a packed train station might be good. Harriet suddenly felt a chill. Not only Voldemort, but that was surely something Solomon Kinney would take advantage of.

Harriet did her best to keep smiling as she lugged her trunk up the steps onto the train car. _Wonderful_ , she thought, _now I’m pissed people think I’m a dangerous monster-something_ and _I’m terrified something horrible is about to happen_.

Kieran led Harriet and Scott down the aisle. Harriet stole glances into the compartments they passed. Most of them were empty, but those that weren’t were full of loud gossip that fell silent the moment the gossipers caught sight of Harriet passing.

Harriet closed her eyes, taking a calming breath like Sebastian had taught her, and kept following Kieran. Finally, they stopped at a compartment, loaded Scott’s luggage onto the rack next to Kieran’s, and headed back to the platform.

That was where Harriet had her next awkward moment. She was just stepping down when she looked up and saw she was standing right behind two very familiar, and most unwelcome, figures.

It was Draco Malfoy, and his father, Lucius. They had their backs to Harriet, but she’d never forget them. The Order hadn’t let them go unnoticed, either. Harriet could see many of them eyeing the Malfoys with suspicion.

“Do as you’re told this year, Draco,” Lucius Malfoy said. He was hard to understand, as though he was trying to talk without moving his lips. “Both the Order and the Ministry will be watching Hogwarts like hawks. No slip-ups. No toes out of line. Everything depends on it.”

“Yes, Father,” Draco replied.

Harriet’s blood ran cold. The last time she’d heard Lucius Malfoy’s voice, it was in the graveyard. He was wearing a Death Eater mask, begging Lord Voldemort to explain how he managed to return to his body.

However, she also remembered something else. She remembered the sound of Lucius Malfoy’s agonized screams as Crouch, Jr tortured him and the others with the Cruciatus Curse. Harriet looked the two men over. It didn’t forgive all the horrible things that Lucius Malfoy had done, but somehow, Harriet didn’t feel as afraid of him anymore. He was human.

Kieran and Scott were slowly backing up the stairs again. Scott had a hand on Harriet’s shoulder, pulling her back with them gently.

Harriet resisted. She remembered something else. Her mind flicked back to the night Professor McGonagall had stopped into Grimmauld Place to give Harriet the rundown on what the Order was up to. She’d said Mrs Malfoy had been taken prisoner by Lord Voldemort.

Harriet looked at the pair anew. She couldn’t help it. Draco looked sullen and defeated. His shoulders were slouched, his head not held nearly as high. Lucius looked as sallow as Professor Snape. His hair was as straight as ever, yet somehow it didn’t have the same lustre and sheen to it. Neither looked as though they had been outside much lately.

Mr Malfoy was cautioning Draco to behave himself. Both must be terrified for Mrs Malfoy’s safety. Harriet swallowed, wondering how she’d be able to handle being in their shoes. What if Mum had been taken captive?

Harriet turned and quickly followed the boys back up into the train. She couldn’t think about that. Not now.

“What was that about?” Kieran asked, exasperated. “He’s a Death Eater! He could have just grabbed you and disapparated to You-Know-Who before anyone could do anything!”

Harriet sighed, before filling them in. Scott whistled. Kieran looked dumbstruck.

“Wow…” Kieran whispered, looking past Harriet towards the staircase.

At that moment, Draco stepped into view. He stopped cold at the sight of the three. Harriet froze, as did Kieran and Scott. Draco’s face was stone as his eyes darted between the three faces. Without a word, he turned and stepped back out of the car.

“You think he heard?” Kieran asked.

“Doubt it,” Scott said. “Doubt he would have even come in had he heard.”

“I… never thought I’d say this, but poor Draco…” Kieran muttered.

They headed to the other end of the carriage, slowly moving down the other staircase. Harriet peeked out and felt relief to see that neither of the Malfoys was there. They walked out onto the platform, looking around.

Harriet let out a sigh of relief, but she did not go unnoticed. Harriet was only two steps onto the platform when a squeal of delight broke the air.

“Potter-senpai!”

Harriet felt as though she leapt clean out of her skin. Before she knew what was happening, a head of long, shiny black hair was bobbing up and down in front of her. Someone was holding her hands, jumping up and down with excitement.

Harriet came to her senses and realized it was Kazunari’s little sister, Mayu. A feeling of warm pride came over Harriet as her heart settled down.

“Hello, Mayu,” Harriet said.

“I am here! I am going to Hogwarts!” Mayu continued to squeal with excitement.

Her eyes were wide as saucers in her joy. She began to come down, coming to her own senses, slowly looking embarrassed at her outburst.

“Gomen-nasai,” Mayu said quickly, giving Harriet a little bow. “I am just so happy and have you to thank.”

“You’re welcome, really,” Harriet said, looking around. “Is Kazunari here?”

“Hai-yes,” Mayu said, pointing him out.

He was walking over casually, smiling in his way that Harriet could never decide was more adorable or awkward.

“Kazuzu and I are living in his new flat while he is finding work,” Mayu explained.

Harriet noted that her tone was very metered, as though she was thinking hard about every word she was using. Harriet reminded herself that English was not Mayu’s first language. Scott seemed to notice as well.

“That’s great. Your English is coming along wonderfully, by the way.”

Mayu flushed and giggled. “Arriga—thank you,” she corrected.

“Hello, Harriet Potter,” Kazunari said, holding out a hand to her.

“Hiya, Kazunari,” Harriet replied.

Harriet wasn’t sure what to expect in seeing Kazunari again, but she wasn’t disappointed. He was wearing the tatty blue suit he’d worn the first time Harriet had seen him. It pleased Harriet to know that not everything about him had been an act.

“Brother is having an interview today with Ollivander-sensei,” Mayu said, her face glowing with pride.

Kazunari went scarlet and rubbed the back of his head awkwardly. “I—yes—I am. I was impressed with Mr Ollivander’s knowledge during the wand weighing at the tournament. Sashihara-sensei has retired, and so I am seeking employment with Mr Ollivander.”

“Fantastic,” Scott grinned. “Ollivander’s tops, for sure. Although…”

Scott produced a pad of paper and a pencil. He jotted something down quickly. Harriet knew it was the name of his cousin, Jess, who was something of a ‘recreational’ wandmaker. She made the wands for all the Americans who’d lost theirs in the fighting in America, for free. Scott’s family had made their original fortune on wands but moved on to investments instead.

“Jess McIntyre,” Kazunari read aloud.

“She’ll help set you up if Ollivander falls through,” Scott smiled. “But I’m sure Ollivander will give you a chance. You were a champion.”

Kazunari’s face looked as though it was going to burst into flames. He and Mayu began thanking Scott profusely, and Kazunari returned his attention to Harriet. He was about to speak when a voice broke through the crowd.

“I live and breathe, Kazunari is that you?”

It was Cedric. He came out of the crowd, hand in hand with Cho Chang. Both stopped dead at the sight of Harriet.

“Oh, hello,” Cedric said, his face going white, then puce.

Harriet knew exactly what had Cedric on edge. For the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, Solomon Kinney had impersonated Cho to lure Cedric away from the others and take his place in the task. Cedric was proud, one of the first students to bring real attention and glory to Hufflepuff House in many years. Harriet knew if she were in Cedric’s shoes, she’d feel humiliated.

“Hi,” Harriet said, doing her best to look cheerful.

She couldn’t blame Cedric. Solomon Kinney had duped some of the best and most powerful witches and wizards in the world. He managed to infiltrate the Ministry of Magic, Avalon, and Hogwarts, some of the most protected places Harriet knew. As far as Harriet was concerned, Cedric should just be happy he was still alive.

“Congratulations,” Cho said, giving Harriet a soft smile.

“Thanks.”

“After all that happened to you, you deserve that,” Cho continued.

“Th-thanks, Cho,” Harriet said, blushing a little.

She was flattered, but at the same time, Harriet didn’t want to think about anything Cho was alluding to. She’d been doing okay just getting lost in her new life, and not having to think about what happened. Particularly not after her freak-out at the wedding reception. She was eager to avoid that happening ever again, especially not in public.

“Really, Harriet,” Cedric said, doing his best to sound more relaxed.

“What are we talking about?” Kazunari asked, looking amongst the group with concerned confusion. Harriet supposed he didn’t read _The Daily Prophet_ yet. That was definitely a point in his favour, Harriet thought.

“I’ve been adopted,” Harriet said quickly.

“Oh, that is wonderful,” Kazunari said, grinning again.

Harriet grinned, glad to have steered the conversation back onto happy subjects.

“What are you doing here?” Cedric asked Kazunari, grinning.

“My sister is now attending Hogwarts,” Kazunari explained. “And I am here seeking work.”

“Oh how wonderful for you, too!” Cho exclaimed.

She was about to hug Mayu but instead shrieked and jumped back. Out of the corner of her eye, Harriet saw most of the Order spin around, almost drawing their wands.

Harriet also saw what had made Cho jump. Much as had happened with Kieran, a tiny, toy dragon had burst out of Mayu’s hair and was snarling at Cho. Harriet recognized it as the little model of the Hungarian Horntail that Kazunari had faced in the first task.

“Jingū-tan! No!” Mayu said.

The little dragon hissed and slowly crawled back into Mayu’s hair. Cedric blinked with surprise looking at the disappearing dragon.

“Wow, that the one from the tournament?” Cedric asked.

“Hai,” Kazunari smiled. “I gave it to Mayu-chan to celebrate after the first task.”

“Wow, the magic wore off on mine months ago,” Cedric said.

Harriet looked down at her pouch where DIDS was still curled up. What did that mean?

“You still have yours, Harriet?” Cedric asked.

“I do, actually,” Harriet said, reaching into her pouch and drawing out DIDS.

DIDS growled irritably. He’d clearly just gotten comfortable.

Kazunari laughed. “In demeanour, it is much like little Jingu-tan,” he observed.

“What is its name,” Mayu asked looking at DIDS with interest.

“DIDS,” Harriet explained. “It was supposed to stand for Dragon-of-Diminutive-Size, but I spelt it wrong, and now he won’t answer to anything else.”

“Wow,” Cedric smiled. “Wonder what happened to mine… must have been a faulty charm, or something.”

The rest of the group shrugged.

“Hey,” Cedric said to Kazunari. “Come along with Cho and me, we can get your sister’s things on the train, too.”

Kazunari and Mayu agreed, chatting quietly with Cedric and Cho as they began moving the two trunks up into the train. Kazunari tripped twice while doing so.

“He’s a character,” Kieran chuckled. “But he’s got it where it counts.”

“He does,” Harriet smiled.

“Funny about the dragons,” Scott said, studying DIDS as close as he dared.

“Yeah, I’ve been wondering about that, too.”

“Oh, there they are,” Scott grinned, pointing over the crowd.

Harriet looked and felt her smile grow markedly. The others had indeed arrived. Hermione and Dora were talking excitedly with a tall, flashily dressed girl with short, red hair. Harriet’s jaw dropped.

It was Ronnie. In a matter of weeks, she was completely transformed. She was wearing a red sequined hanky-hem top with spaghetti straps that showed most of her midriff, over a black mesh long-sleeved top. She also wore olive-drab baggy combat trousers, black combat boots, with a black choker. Her lipstick was dark, and her hair grown out long enough to be put in two little pigtails.

True to form, Hermione squealed with excitement as she hurried over to embrace Harriet.

“Wow,” Scott said, taking in Ronnie’s attire. “That’s a change.”

“Fern’s been giving me pointers,” Ronnie grinned. “Found most of it in the town’s charity shop.”

“And _your_ mum let you?” Kieran said, his voice equally full of disbelief.

“She said any shirts I get have to cover my belly button,” Ronnie smirked, indicating the way the pointed top covered, more or less, only the navel of her midriff, before extending her arms to show the long mesh sleeves. “And at least have sleeves.”

“Cheeky,” Scott laughed.

“Don’t think that’d work on my mum,” Harriet said. “Or Dad… Dad would probably flip.”

“Well, I did wear a jumper on the way here,” Ronnie admitted, looking around anxiously for her mother.

“That’s my little rebel,” Dora grinned, winking.

“Where is Fern, by the way?” Harriet asked. Over the summer, she and Fern had become rather close, even going on an adventure.

“Apparently all Rathlin students had to go to Hogwarts a week early for a ‘special orientation’,” Hermione explained.

Harriet couldn’t help but notice a tone of suspicion in her voice.

“Maybe they’re pre-sorting?” Kieran suggested. “There has to be over a hundred or so new students. The Sorting would take forever!”

“That’s true,” Hermione admitted, but she didn’t sound convinced.

Marcus put a comforting arm around her shoulders before turning to Harriet. “So, Harriet Potter-Dusk, a family at last.”

Harriet felt her cheeks warm as emotions welled up inside her again. She was trying her hardest to keep the tears of happiness down.

“Oh, Harriet,” Hermione said hugging Harriet again. “It’s okay.”

Harriet smiled and let the tears flow. Her friends all gathered around her in a large group hug.

“Thanks,” Harriet said, wiping her eyes as the hug broke apart. “Been a while since I had something to be this to be happy about.”

“Well you’ve got it now, and you deserve it,” Marcus said.

Harriet gave him and Hermione another hug.

“What compartment are you in?” Dora asked. “Get our stuff stored then we can say our goodbyes?”

“Follow us,” Scott replied, waving them on.

“We’re going to be crowded,” Dora observed as they reached the compartment. “Seven of us don’t fit into a compartment as well anymore.”

“Well, the compartment across from us is open,” Marcus noted. “We can just keep the doors open and chat still.”

“Good thinking,” Hermione said.

Marcus loaded his trunk in with Kieran and Scott’s, while the girls loaded theirs into the opposite compartment. They now headed back out for the platform.

As they did, Harriet heard more hushed talking. She looked over her shoulder. A group of girls was talking and looking at her. The moment she caught their eye, the girls all hurried into the closest compartment.

“What was that about?” Ronnie asked.

“Apparently, people still think I’m an Obscurial,” Harriet growled, crossing her arms.

“How utterly ridiculous,” Hermione scoffed. “Obscurial and Obscurus are almost unheard of this day and age. The last one ran amok in New York City back in nineteen twenty-six.” Hermione’s face fell. “According to the reports, the boy died… despite the best efforts of Newt Scamander.”

The name clicked a light in Harriet’s mind.

“Newt Scamander?” Harriet asked. “I met him this summer.”

“SHUT UP!” Ronnie shouted in surprise. “When?!”

Harriet blinked, taken aback. “Th-the night I was attacked,” she stammered. “The Aurors called him in to verify I wasn’t an Obscurial.”

“What was he like?” Ronnie asked, her voice full of indecent hunger, her eyes burning with interest.

“H-he was nice,” Harriet said, fighting off the urge to take a step back. “So was his wife… she was really nice.”

“Ronnie,” Dora said soothingly. “Relax, I doubt Harriet was thinking too much about that at the time…”

“Oh,” Ronnie flushed, looking ashamed. “Sorry… wasn’t thinking…”

Harriet smiled, regaining her composure. “It’s okay.”

They descended onto the platform for the last time. Their parents and the whole Order came over to see them off.

“Have a good trip, girls,” Daddy said hugging the three sisters.

“We will, Daddy,” Harriet replied.

“We’ll be back in about a week, girls,” Mum reminded them. “But we’ll send you postcards every day.”

“Thanks, Mom,” the twins said.

“Ronnie!” Mrs Weasley exclaimed, catching sight of Ronnie in the revealing top.

Ronnie blanched but did her best to smile. “Hey, it’s my last day before I gotta wear a uniform all the time. And look, covers my belly button! Just like you said!”

Mrs Weasley was clearly fuming. Mr Weasley’s expression was exasperated, Ginny was looking up at Ronnie with pride, while Fred and George looked distinctly jealous. They had a much harder time getting away with mischief around their parents than Ronnie ever did.

The group chatted while the minutes ticked down to departure. Hermione ended up deep in conversation with Mad-Eye Moody. Harriet supposed she was eager to talk to the real Moody for a change and probe him for information. Mad-Eye looked rather impressed as Hermione studied his magical eye, which he’d removed for her, with her usual intent interest.

Harriet kept closer to Daddy and Mum than she normally would have. They had been with her almost every single day since the attack this summer. Now she was going to be back at Hogwarts, and they were going to be going abroad.

With indecent speed, the announcement came to board. More hurried hugs were given.

“Remember,” Daddy whispered as he hugged the girls close. “Remember your necklaces. Keep them on you at all times.”

“Yes, Daddy,” the girls said in unison.

“Keep your cloak with you at all times,” Mum cautioned Harriet.

“Yes, Mum.”

“And the Map,” Daddy added. “Keep it around to keep an eye on who’s in the school.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“I’ll see you in a week,” Mum said, her eyes over-bright.

“And I’ll see you first Hogsmeade Weekend,” Daddy said, hugging an arm around Mum’s shoulder.

“Can’t wait,” Harriet said.

“We’re proud of you,” Daddy added.

Harriet felt frozen. She suddenly had an image of Lily and James’ ghostly, smoke forms, telling her they were proud of her. She recovered herself and gave a feeble smile.

“Thanks…”

Harriet stepped up onto the train. Again, she was hit with the image of Lily and James. She turned and before she knew what she was doing she leapt up and flung her arms around their necks.

“Promise you’ll come back,” Harriet said hurriedly, tearing up again.

“Oh sweetie,” Mum said soothingly.

“Of course we’re coming back,” Daddy said.

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

Harriet’s voice caught in her throat. Another realization hit her. She could tell them something she’d never told anyone before. Not to their faces.

“I love you…”

Daddy and Mum’s embraces doubled in strength.

“We love you too.”

## * * * *

Harriet had only just managed to get back on the train in time. She stayed in the doorway, sliding down the window to wave. Daddy and Mum stayed at the edge of the platform, waving back to her. Even after they were out of sight, Harriet remained in the doorway. She wanted to be alone for a few minutes.

Her friends seemed to understand and respect this. She composed herself and finally stepped into the corridor, heading for the compartments. She was about to step inside the compartment with the other girls when she paused, noticing the compartment was more crowded than she’d anticipated. They had been joined by Ginny, and her dotty Ravenclaw friend, Luna Lovegood.

Luna looked as eccentric as ever. She was wearing a yellow bucket hat that was pinned up in the front with a big white flower. She had on a forest green crocheted cardigan over a white floral sundress, her necklace of bottle caps, and clunky pink Doc Martens.

The effect wasn’t helped by the fact Luna had her wand tucked behind her ear, and was reading a magazine upside down. Hermione did not look particularly thrilled about Luna’s addition to the compartment. She was giving Luna’s upside-down magazine a very cold look, indeed.

“Oh, hi,” Harriet said, sitting next to Hermione.

“Hello,” Luna said airily. “It is nice to see you again, Harriet Potter.”

“You too,” Harriet smiled, glancing down at the magazine again.

The title read _The Quibbler._ Harriet recalled this was the magazine her father, Xenophilius, ran. Harriet wondered why Luna was reading it upside down.

“Congratulations,” Luna said. “It was all over the normal papers that you were adopted.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, Mione,” Marcus said leaning over to look at her. “Aren’t we supposed to go to the prefect carriage?”

Hermione gasped, standing bolt upright. “You’re right! I forgot!”

Hermione nearly tripped over Harriet on her way out. Marcus rolled his eyes, smiling affectionately and following her at a much more relaxed pace.

Harriet turned her attention to Ronnie and Dora.

“So, you’re going all in on this, then?” Harriet asked, nodding to Ronnie’s outfit.

Ronnie shrugged. “Never considered it before, but Fern’s been giving me lots of pointers on how to dress and what that world’s like. Just feels weird, suddenly having people notice me, tell me how nice I look…”

“That is unsurprising, you are very pretty,” Luna observed, making Ronnie go scarlet.

Dora’s eyes narrowed. Harriet barely kept herself from snorting out a laugh. Was Dora being jealous? Of Luna Lovegood?

“Uh, thanks,” Ronnie replied. “I wasn’t keen on this whole modelling thing at first, but then I thought… maybe I can like—do what Professor Sutler used to do? Maybe I can use it to bring attention to animals and stuff?”

“Cool,” Harriet grinned.

Ronnie had undergone quite a transformation over the past year. Growing up in a family of accomplished witches and wizards, Ronnie had a hard time finding her niche in the world. She had found a place for herself in the muggle sport of football, but the biggest change came when she was finally able to admit to her love of animals; birds being her favourite.

Ginny was looking into the other compartment. She caught Harriet’s eye and her cheeks reddened. She rose and excused herself, crossing the corridor to sit across from Kieran. At once they were in a quiet conversation that Harriet couldn’t hear.

Luna seemed to notice. “I suppose Ginny does not want to be in this compartment,” Luna said, looking over her magazine at Harriet. “She feels bad about that boy, Finn.”

Harriet blinked, then remembered. At the Yule Ball, Finn had helped Ginny sneak in even though she didn’t have a date. Ginny had acted rather taken with Finn afterwards.

“She’s jealous?”

Luna shrugged. “It could be. She hasn’t really said.”

Harriet grimaced, stealing a glance at Ginny. So far, her much looked forward to return to Hogwarts was off to a much more awkward start than she’d hoped. Somehow it felt like every conversation came to something she’d rather not talk about. Then again, Harriet supposed she of all people had plenty of things to not talk about.

“Hello all,” came the cheerful voice of Neville Longbottom.

“Hi, Neville,” Kieran greeted him. “Hello, Basheera.”

Neville and Basheera came into view. Neville was holding an odd little pot-plant. It looked like a cactus, but instead of spines, it was covered in what appeared to be boils.

“Oh, Harriet,” Basheera beamed. “Congratulations!”

“Thanks, Basheera,” Harriet said, returning Basheera’s quick hug.

Now Harriet thought about it, the congratulations were starting to get a bit wearing. Then again, she was starting to feel irritable, period.

“Look what I got for my birthday!” Neville said, holding out the pulsating, grey plant.

“A sick spleen?” Ronnie asked.

Luna burst out with laughter. All of the gathered students stared at her in disbelief.

“That was funny!” Luna declared, calming herself enough to speak.

“Uh, thanks?” Ronnie said.

“No,” Basheera said, giving both Ronnie and Luna disapproving looks.

“It’s a _Mimbulus mimbletonia_ ,” Neville said, forcing a smile back on his face. “They’re incredibly rare. They were cultivated by the ancient Assyrians for defence of their gardens. They would plant them every few rows, so when animals got into the garden and touched them, they would spray their stink-sap around and drive the animals off!”

“Wow,” Ronnie said, now with genuine interest, leaning over. “Is it poisonous?”

“Don’t think so,” Neville said, drawing his wand. “You know, I’ve never—”

He was about to touch his wand to the little plant when Basheera gasped and quickly grabbed his wand hand, lowering it and shaking her head at him determinedly.

Ginny giggled. “Wow, must be bad, huh?”

“It is awful,” Basheera said. “Mother had one, and one-day Anass poked it.”

Basheera shivered.

Kieran smiled. “Good to know, there will definitely be a ‘no- _mimbulus mimbletonia_ -poking’ policy in our dorm this year.”

“I won’t keep it in the dorm,” Neville said. “I’m going to put it in the greenhouses where it’ll get the best care. I want to see if I can get more to grow from it.”

“That’s reassuring,” Kieran laughed.

“Where are Hermione and Marcus?” Basheera asked, looking around the compartments, a glint of mischief in her eye.

“Up in the prefect carriage,” Dora said.

“They’re our prefects?” Neville asked, smiling. “Excellent. Glad it’s Marcus and not some prat like Dean or Seamus who wouldn’t take it seriously.”

“Anyone know who the others are?” Ronnie asked. “We saw Zabini and Parkinson…”

Neville and Basheera shrugged.

“I saw Hannah Abbot and Ernie Macmillan with badges,” Harriet said.

“Cool,” Ronnie smiled. “I like Hannah.”

“Ernie’s mellowed out a lot, too,” Kieran said.

“Hope so,” Harriet muttered.

Ernie Macmillan had been one of the leading voices calling Harriet the Heir of Slytherin in their second year. He had also been suspicious of Jeremy Owen, who at the time was undergoing his first transformations as a true werewolf.

“Going to join us?” Scott asked Neville and Basheera politely.

“You all look a bit full,” Neville said. “And Basheera and I already have a compartment with Lavender, Parvati and her sister.”

“We just wanted to come say hello,” Basheera said, then her face fell “and to warn you…”

“Warn us?” Ronnie asked.

“Harriet specifically,” Neville replied.

He and Basheera were now speaking in hushed voices. Harriet grimaced.

“If it’s the Obscurial thing, I already know.”

“Oh, you do?” Neville shifted uncomfortably.

“That was part of it,” Basheera said, chewing her lip.

“But that’s not all of it,” Neville whispered. “We overheard some other kids who think you’re either working with Kinney, or he’s controlling you.”

“What?!” Harriet shouted, her indignation driving her to her feet.

Basheera and Neville looked stricken.

“It is not us saying that,” Basheera said quickly, holding up her hands.

“We just didn’t think you should get blindsided by it,” Neville added.

Harriet slumped back into the seat. DIDS grumbled and shifted irritably in his pouch from being bounced around. Harriet ignored him as she looked out the window at the passing countryside. The beauty somehow made her angrier.

She didn’t notice Neville and Basheera leave. The injustice of it all was driving her mad. She just wanted to go back to Hogwarts. She just wanted to take her lessons. She wanted to forget about all the terrible things that had happened to her.

And yet, all day she’d had to miss out on hearing one of her favourite parts of taking the Hogwarts Express, people thought she was either dangerous or a criminal of some sort, was reminded of how Kinney and Voldemort were still out there, and who knew what else was going to happen before the day was over?

## * * * *

Harriet grunted awake. She didn’t remember falling asleep. Her headphones were on, but no sound came from them. That side of the tape had finished.

Harriet looked around for what woke her. Hermione and Marcus had returned. Hermione was sitting right next to Harriet, giving her an apologetic look.

“Sorry, did I wake you?”

Harriet stretched and yawned. “I guess, but it’s okay. Hadn’t planned on falling asleep anyway.”

Ronnie held out a pumpkin pastie to Harriet. Clearly, the lunch trolley had already been by. Harriet thanked Ronnie, taking the pastie and biting into it. She groaned in appreciation at the sweet, smooth flavour. She hadn’t realized how hungry she was, either.

“Drunk on power, yet?” Dora asked Hermione, her eyes twinkling cheekily.

“No, but no doubt _two_ are,” Hermione said waspishly.

No one had to ask who Hermione was referring to.

“Who’re the Ravenclaw prefects?” Scott asked, changing the subject slightly.

“Anthony Goldstein and Atsuko Makeda,” Marcus replied.

“Cool,” Scott smiled. “Anthony’s a good bloke.”

“Haven’t met him yet,” Dora said.

“Yeah, he’s pretty devoted to our house,” Scott explained. “I feel better knowing it’s him. Terry Boot can be kind of a git.”

“Is Anthony the one you were telling me about,” Kieran said. “The one who’s like our house’s Basheera?”

“That’s him,” Scott smiled.

“How so?” Dora asked.

Scott shrugged. “Anthony’s Jewish, and fairly open about it. His family came to the US from America back in the twenties. His great-grandmother married a Muggle, which was illegal in the US at the time. Even here in Britain it wasn’t really smiled upon, so they kept his great-grandmother’s family name.”

Marcus whistled. “Things don’t change much, do they?”

“Sadly not,” Hermione sighed.

“But they do change,” Luna chimed in.

Hermione raised a sceptical eyebrow. Luna didn’t seem to notice as she smiled pleasantly.

“Look at America, now. Now magical and muggle people live side by side, and can marry freely. The magical people keep that secret, but they no longer live in fear.”

“Yeah, but they’re fighting a war over trying to keep natives as third-class citizens,” Marcus said.

“Naturally there are those of backwards minds who fight to continue oppression,” Luna said importantly “but they wouldn’t have to fight if there weren’t others who were willing to fight them to end that oppression.”

The compartments fell silent at this. Harriet was impressed. Luna certainly had a point, she thought.

By the looks of it, Hermione thought Luna was onto something, too.

“That’s… well-reasoned,” Hermione admitted.

“Wit beyond measure is man’s greatest treasure,” Luna said in a sing-song, reciting the Ravenclaw slogan.

Hermione rolled her eyes, while Ginny and Dora giggled.

“They’ve even gone beyond giving wand-rights to Goblins, and have now given them to Dwarves,” Luna said, indicating the magazine. “As a result, the Wizengamot has passed resolutions giving them the same rights here.”

Scott snorted. He looked embarrassed as everyone looked to him.

“Oh, no,” Scott said quickly. “Not scoffing at that! It’s the Ministry trying to save face after all they did with Rathlin. They’re not doing it because it’s the right thing to do, they’re doing it to look good in the eyes of the International Confederation of Wizards.”

Dora shrugged. “Well, maybe it’s not exactly out of goodness, but at least it’s a step in the right direction.”

“Father says the same,” Luna agreed. “He says that now the Goblins have wand rights, it’ll be impossible for the Ministry to go back on it. It’s much harder to take away a right than to give them.”

Hermione was studying Luna shrewdly. “Luna… tell me… how do you feel about elf-rights?”

Luna dropped her magazine. Her dotty expression vanished at once, quickly replaced with indignation.

“Father and I think it is awful what has been done to house-elves!”

Harriet’s attention waned as Luna went into a diatribe about the evils of house-elf enslavement. Hermione on the other hand was looking at Luna as though her dreams were coming true. Harriet was sure she’d just found the newest member of the Society for the Promotion of Elfish Welfare.

Instead, Harriet looked down at the magazine at Luna’s feet. Now it was right-side up, she could read the smaller article titles properly.

_The Pharaoh Fudge_ read one. _Free Sherrod Howe!_ Read another.

“Can I read this?” Harriet asked, picking up the magazine.

“Oh, of course,” Luna said, giving Harriet a wistful smile before moving on to begin expressing her outrage over the Ministry’s maltreatment of centaurs.

Hermione was looking at Luna with very new eyes indeed. Harriet shook her head in amusement and began leafing through the magazine.

She found the article about Fudge first. It was accompanied by a piece of art showing Fudge strangling a goblin and a human child. The artistry was so poor if it wasn’t for the green bowler cap and the title of the article, Harriet would have never guessed it was supposed to be Fudge.

 

_Cornelius Fudge, the Minister for Magic, denied that he had any plans to seize control of Gringotts Wizarding Bank in the wake of talks between the board of Gringotts and the American MACUSA to relocate the bank’s central operations to the Magical US (MUS). These talks arose in response to America’s extension of wand-rights to Goblins in return for their aid in quelling the uprising and civil war that has plagued their nation for three long years. The situation was exacerbated by a disastrous raid by Ministry officials on the island school of Rathlin Academy of the Arts (and Magic) which resulted in six-hundred muggle and squib students being obliviated._

Harriet grimaced. _Finn…_

 

_Fudge has always insisted since he was elected Minister of Magic five years ago, that he wants nothing more than to ‘co-operate peacefully’ with the guardians of our gold._

_BUT DOES HE?_

_Sources close to the Minister have recently disclosed that one of Fudge’s dearest ambitions is to seize control of goblin gold supplies in Britain and he will not hesitate to use force if necessary._

_“How can anyone doubt this?” said a Ministry insider. “Look at what happened on Rathlin. Not even our own kind are safe from him now. Cornelius ‘Goblin-Crusher’ Fudge is what his friends call him in private. You should hear him talk when he thinks no one’s listening. He’s always bragging about the goblins he’s had done in; he’s had them drowned, he’s had them dropped off buildings, he’s had them poisoned, he’s had them baked in pies…”_

Harriet gave the article a look much like the one Hermione had given Luna. On the one hand, Fudge was terrible. On the other hand, she doubted very much that Fudge had baked goblins in pies. Only morbid curiosity drove Harriet to read further.

 

_“Fudge must have planned on this. Why else would he have taken in those refugee children? He’s going to hold them hostage if you ask me. If the [MUS] tries anything, those children are his first target.”_

Harriet’s stomach churned. Her opinion of Luna’s father’s magazine was not high at this point. Harriet leafed through the magazine some more until she found the one about Professor Howe.

 

_Barely over two months ago, the Ministry of Magic raided the prestigious Rathlin Academy of the Arts (and Magic). In the course of that raid, over six hundred—_

Harriet skimmed over the play by play. It was painful enough. She suddenly wished she had Finn with her, now. Even if he was just memories in a jar at the moment. That all being said, this article seemed much more level-headed than the article about Fudge.

 

_The Ministry insists that Headmaster Sherrod Howe and his deputy, Jefferson Watkins, openly and without provocation attacked Aurors engaged in the agreed task of wiping the memories of non-magical students. This was a long-running clause in attendance of Rathlin Academy by non-magical students._

Harriet furrowed her brow. Why would that be? That was a bit barbaric, wasn’t it?

 

_The reasoning being the protection of the statute of secrecy. Non-magical students could attend with magical students but were sworn to secrecy. If they chose to leave Rathlin before graduation, they would have their memories of the school and magic wiped._

_Okay, so it’s not all memories,_ Harriet thought, _so why did they wipe all the memories?_

_Rather than stick to this plan, the Ministry chose to attack the students en masse. They wiped the memories with Aurors, not trained Ministry Obliviators. The Ministry has since thrown these Aurors under the erumpent, and imprisoned them alongside Professors Howe and Watkins in Azkaban._

Harriet blinked. That didn’t make sense. The author of the article seemed to agree.

 

_How can Howe and Watkins have attacked simple Aurors going about their duty, and yet the Aurors were engaged in illegal activity? The Ministry seems to think they’re having their potions and drinking them, too._

_As is now well known, after the incident during the final task of the Triwizard Tournament, Professor Sherrod Howe made some shocking declarations to the public press. He declared to all that it had been a returned You-Know-Who behind the events at the Triwizard Tournament and that he had returned to his body._

_Now, no one wants to accept that You-Know-Who is back. Least of all, the Ministry of Magic, and Cornelius Fudge. Can any of us see a bumbling fool like Fudge standing up to the likes of You-Know-Who? We’d vote him out in an instant._

_That makes sense I guess,_ Harriet thought.

 

_The Ministry had to move fast. They had to silence Sherrod Howe. Sherrod Howe is a beloved public figure, someone who people listen to. Not like this magazine, looked down upon by most of our society._

Harriet blinked. Who wrote this? It was so different from the previous article, and yet something about the writing felt familiar. That didn’t really matter, now. The article was right, the Ministry must have attacked Rathlin to silence Professor Howe.

 

_The Ministry acted swiftly and brutally. Sherrod Howe’s students were jeopardized. He acted as any caretaker of youth would: he moved to defend them. Witnesses report Howe holding an obliviated student in his arms, just before the Ministry moved to arrest him. Fascinating, that Professor Howe was going to be arrested before he struck out at any Aurors, isn’t it?_

Harriet’s hands tightened on the paper. She couldn’t read more. The gall of them. The nerve. So many people hurt just to keep their comfy little hold on British magical society?

Harriet threw down the magazine. Luna gave a scoff of protest, but Harriet didn’t care. Before she knew what she was doing she was on her feet and storming down the corridor.

She wanted to be alone. She wanted to be back in her bedroom, lying alone on her bed, listening to Finn while Hedwig preened her hair. She wanted the world to be normal again.

The next thing Harriet knew, she was at the very back of the train. The door to the rear balcony was locked. Harriet glowered angrily. The only place on the train she could truly be alone, besides the lavatories, and it was locked.

Harriet was having trouble breathing. Her heart was racing. Harriet forced her eyes shut, leaning against the locked door. She focused on drawing in a slow, deep breath, then gradually letting it out. She repeated.

Her hands unclenched. Her arms stopped shaking. She was calming again.

“Dear, oh dear, Potter,” said a sly voice. “Startling a lot of students, aren’t you? You’re lucky we’re on the train or I’d have to start giving you detentions.”

“Shove off, Zabini,” Harriet growled.

She did her best to keep from turning, not wanting to dignify him with direct contact. However, she had to keep her eyes closed, as she could see his reflection in the glass on the door.

“Hey now,” Zabini continued, his tone silky and faux-soothing. “No need for that. I can be your friend, you know? You have a rough year ahead of you, and it’s even worse after all you’ve already been through. After what those awful muggles did to you…”

Harriet’s upper lip began to twitch without her volition. Her hand was shaking.

“Funny you mention them,” Harriet growled. “They were the last people to corner me like this… how exactly does this make you better?”

Zabini remained silent for a few moments. Harriet felt a grim sense of self-satisfaction.

“We’re safe here on a train…” Zabini finally continued. “What could I do to you here? Really… with Solomon Kinney still on the loose… people seem to think you’re connected to him. They seem to think someone as special as you is a monster. You need real, strong friends this year. Someone who’ll really be there to hold your hand, Harriet.”

Harriet spun at once. In one fluid motion, her wand was drawn and pointed right at Zabini’s throat.

“You don’t get to call me that,” Harriet snarled. “You’re not my friend. You’ll never be my friend.”

Zabini was doing his best to keep smiling as he raised his hands, but Harriet noticed his throat was tight and he was breathing even quicker than Harriet had been during her near freak-out of a minute ago.

“If you insist,” Zabini shrugged, taking a slow step backwards.

“I think she did,” said a cold voice.

Zabini turned. Harriet leaned to look past him. Her eyes widened in surprise. It was Tonks.

“And who are you?” Zabini asked.

“Me? Oh, you think a prefect badge gives you the right to start making demands of adults, do you?” Tonks asked. “Well, it just so happens I, too, have a badge.”

Tonks pulled back part of her jacket, revealing her Auror badge. Zabini went rigid. Harriet stared. This was Tonks as Harriet had never seen her. Most times Harriet had seen Tonks, she was laughing and cracking-wise. This Tonks was different. Harriet now appreciated just how Tonks had become an Auror.

“Now, you need to think very carefully about what you say,” Tonks said. “In fact, it would probably be best if you just moved yourself back to your compartment.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Zabini said quickly and hurried past Tonks back up the corridor.

Tonks kept a cool eye on Zabini’s receding back, only turning back to Harriet when he’d disappeared into his compartment.

Harriet was again surprised to see that Tonks’ face had returned to its usual, cheerful self, as though nothing at all had happened.

“Wotcher, Harriet,” Tonks said, smiling. “And well done.”

Harriet slowly lowered her wand. “Shouldn’t let him get to me…”

Tonks rolled her eyes and blew a bit of her pink fringe out of her face. “He’s a creep. You want to watch out for him. Lots more like him out there. Show them you’re strong and won’t put up with their shite, just like you did. Would have stepped in earlier, but you seemed to be handling yourself.”

Harriet felt both flattered, and annoyed. She appreciated the praise, but Tonks’ being here only had one explanation: the Order was still following her.

Tonks apparently caught Harriet’s drift. She gave Harriet a sympathetic smile.

“Wanted to be alone?”

Harriet nodded. Tonks took a surreptitious look back up the corridor. Satisfied no one was watching, Tonks stepped past Harriet and tapped the handle to the door a couple times with her wand. The door clicked and Tonks turned the handle, opening the door.

“I’ll keep the door open,” Tonks said, giving Harriet a wink, “and give you about ten minutes.”

Harriet felt a welling of appreciation for Tonks. She stepped out onto the back balcony and leaned against the railing. She appreciated the coolness of the air whipping around in the train’s slipstream. She closed her eyes, pretending she was flying.

Yes, this year was going to be hard. It had already been hard. But Harriet could hack it. She had to.

She could handle creeps like Zabini. She could handle what life was throwing at her. She had friends when she needed them. She had a family. She was going to make it.

She had to.


	14. Warnings

“The best of intentions can always go wrong.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet thanked Tonks with all her sincerity when her ten minutes were up. The cool air and the solitude had done wonders to help her clear her mind. Harriet appreciated it even more that Tonks didn’t follow her. Or at least she did not make it seem obvious that she was.

Harriet was surprised to see that her friends had not chased her. Their looks were all sympathetic as Harriet returned to the compartments, but no one said anything. Harriet appreciated that, as well.

The rest of the train ride went with little incident. In fact, after Harriet had blown off some steam, she was quite pleased to find herself laughing with everyone else. She was starting to be reminded of the things she did have to look forward to at Hogwarts.

Like Quidditch. Harriet was dying to get back to Quidditch. She’d been unable to play Quidditch all last year because of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. She was eager to get back into the game and properly put her _Firebolt_ through its paces.

If Harriet was being honest with herself, she was looking forward to Hogwarts as a chance to get away. Somewhere she could put a lot of her worries out of her head. Solomon Kinney was the one most able to flit in and out of Hogwarts, but it was clear to Harriet that if there was one person in the world Solomon Kinney didn’t want to hurt, for some reason, it was her. Meanwhile, Lord Voldemort was apparently lying low. With Professor Dumbledore gone, the Ministry should lighten up on Hogwarts.

Yes, things should be okay at Hogwarts. She could put up with stupid rumours. She could put up with gossip. She’d done that all before. None of that outweighed the good things. She had parents. She had sisters. She had her friends. She was going to make it.

## * * * *

Harriet didn’t see Tonks anywhere when they finally disembarked at Hogsmeade Station. There was a strong presence of Aurors, however. Harriet noted something odd. Hermione noticed too.

“Scott, look at the Aurors.”

“Yeah, I noticed…”

“Noticed what?” Ronnie asked.

“Aren’t they all a bit young?” Harriet asked.

“Oh, now you mention it,” Ronnie nodded. “Forgot.”

Harriet remembered the second _Quibbler_ article. She supposed the Ministry was scrambling for new Aurors. Harriet suddenly felt a chill. Now Lord Voldemort was back and the Ministry had just hampered itself by replacing its best defence force with new and inexperienced recruits who probably hadn’t received the same amount of training as others.

This made Harriet ponder something else. Why hadn’t Tonks and Kingsley been arrested? Were they not part of it? She now wished Tonks was here, so she could ask.

“First years!” called an unfamiliar voice.

It was a man’s voice. It sounded aged, and while Harriet couldn’t place it, the voice sounded familiar.

Harriet felt a small pain. Ever since she’d first come to Hogwarts, Hagrid had greeted the first years, escorting them in the boats across the lake. A sliver of guilt began working its way into Harriet’s mind. She’d been so distracted all summer she hadn’t been able to think much about Hagrid. He must still be on his mission.

“I hope Hagrid’s okay,” Harriet said.

“He’s fine,” Ronnie said. “He’s a half-giant. He bred the Skrewts… anything’ll be a breeze for him after that.”

“If you say so,” Harriet worried.

Harriet saw a stooped figure approaching them. It was holding up a lantern, and leaning on a walking stick. For a moment, Harriet thought it was Mad-Eye Moody when the figure called out once more: “First years! First years over here, please!”

“Who’s that?” Kieran asked.

“Must be the substitute for Hagrid and Professor Sutler,” Scott said. “He… looks familiar.”

“Is… is that a false beard?” Hermione asked.

Now the man was close enough, Harriet had a suspicion that Hermione was right. The man’s beard didn’t seem to move with his lips as he called out. Not only that, but Harriet thought he also looked a bit familiar behind the beard.

The man drew level with the group. As he passed, Harriet was sure the man gave her the tiniest of winks. The man moved off, a little crowd of first years following him. Harriet was distracted by the sight of several students much older than first year in the group.

“Who’re they, you reckon?” Harriet asked.

“Bet they’re students who went to foreign schools, or were taught at home,” Dora said.

“Oh yeah, forgot,” Harriet said, recalling the Ministry decree that all British students now had to attend Hogwarts.

One of the older students looked absolutely miserable as he followed along with the group. Harriet supposed he was upset about having to leave his school, but his eyes were locked on the stooped, calling figure. The look on his face as he passed was more despair than resentment.

Marcus and Hermione left the group again to help supervise. Harriet was holding Crookshanks in his basket for Hermione. Crookshanks was shifting around irritably. DIDS was also shifting around a bit. Harriet wondered if he could tell Crookshanks was nearby. She was sure Crookshanks would love the chance to chase DIDS around just as much as Hedwig had.

“What’s that?” Scott asked, pointing to the sky.

“A plane, maybe?” Dora said, squinting up into the night sky.

Harriet spotted what they were looking at. It was a series of little dots moving about. Harriet squinted too.

“That’s not an airplane,” she said.

There were five little lights that Harriet could see. They were moving about, changing positions. That wasn’t all; they were getting closer.

The Aurors noticed, too.

“Everyone down!” an Auror shouted.

Students froze in confusion.

“Incoming!” another Auror called. “Everyone off the platform!”

Students began pointing at the approaching lights. Suddenly, the Aurors began to fire Stunning Spells at the growing lights. Students began to scream and shout in panic, scattering and running into each other. Harriet was jostled about but kept her eyes on the approaching lights. The way they dived and ducked the Stunning Spells, Harriet could now tell it was people on broomsticks.

Harriet froze as the riders got close enough to be seen clearly. The red light of a Stunning Spell missed one by inches, and in the flash, Harriet saw perfectly well the Death Eater mask the flier was wearing. It was Death Eaters. They had attacked after all.

Harriet staggered backwards as a much larger student bumped into her in the frenzy. She grunted landing on her backside on the hard, stone platform. Harriet covered her head, trying not to get kicked. She could hear screaming and felt frantic people rushing past her. There was the swoosh of the Death Eaters flying overhead, and then a massive fluttering sound. It sounded like the fluttering of many wings, like a flock of birds taking off at once.

Harriet lifted her arms off her head. It wasn’t birds, but a cascade of fliers was falling to the earth. Dora and Ronnie helped Harriet to her feet. Harriet looked upwards again just in time to see a Stunning Spell connect with the trailing rider, but by now the Death Eaters had gained enough height that two of the others managed to catch their fallen comrade as they fell. They extinguished their wands, disappearing in the night sky at once.

The Aurors kept firing blindly into the sky. Harriet ignored them, picking up one of the fliers the Death Eaters had dropped. She blinked in amazement as she read. Had she not seen the Death Eaters, Harriet never would have guessed this was their work. There was a drawing of Hogwarts being ensnared in the tentacles of a giant octopus with the head of Cornelius Fudge grinning with evil glee. Behind Fudge was a little island with levelled buildings and a sign declaring: _Rathlin Academy_.

Above this was a scroll with the words:

 

_REMEMBER RATHLIN AND DEMAND FREEDOM FROM TYRANNY!_

Below the art was a few sentences.

_You are all in danger from your own government. Already Ministry forces are taking over your education and lives. Resist! Write to your parents! Make sure they know about the Ministry’s evils under Fudge!_

Harriet looked up at her friends. They were looking back with shock and confusion. Scott picked up another.

“They’re all like that…” he said looking the platform over.

“Those were Death Eaters,” Dora said. “What… I mean…”

“Looks like You-Know-Who’s finally found a way to have an impact,” Kieran sighed.

“Harriet!”

Nan and Rosie appeared, Emma in tow, looking up at her with worry. Dora gave a gasp of relief and pulled her gangly younger sister into a tight embrace.

“Doraaaa,” Emma grumbled. “Gerroff.”

“Those were Death Eaters, weren’t they?” Rosie asked. “I recognized them from my books.”

“Yeah,” Harriet admitted.

“Should… should we have used our…” Nan glanced down at Harriet’s necklace.

Harriet grimaced. She’d totally forgotten. However, there were Aurors around who had driven the Death Eaters off. If Order members started appearing on the platform at the same time, the Aurors were liable to try and arrest them.

“Hey!” Harriet scoffed as an Auror passed, snatching the fliers away.

The Auror ignored them, grabbing away more fliers from students.

“Move along!” Aurors were shouting, bustling the students towards the carriages.

“Wow, they’re _really_ bad at this,” Dora sniffed irritably.

“Yeah,” Ronnie sighed. “We’re snookered…”

“We’re what?” Rosie asked.

“Fucked,” Dora translated.

## * * * *

The carriage ride was quiet and uncomfortable. Firstly, they had crammed way too many people into the carriage. At the moment, Harriet, the twins, Emma, Hermione, Marcus, Dora, and Ronnie were crammed into the carriage. Behind them Kieran and Scott had joined Neville, Basheera, Ginny and Luna. Secondly, Harriet could still see the crazy horse-dragons pulling the carriage. Marcus gave Harriet a sympathetic look. Harriet reminded herself that Marcus could see the strange beasts as well, and made a note to herself to try and talk to him about that.

And many other things. She hadn’t quite gotten to know Marcus as well as most of her other friends. He was generally the quietest, until his temper was up. Harriet had deduced from his boggart that his situation growing up wasn’t all that different from what Harriet had been through.

The mood wasn’t helped by the incident with the Death Eater flyover. Despite the Aurors best efforts, a great many of the fliers had made it to the carriages. Students were passing them around, talking and whispering about what it might mean.

Harriet and her friends all knew what Death Eaters looked like from the attack on the Quidditch World Cup, but Harriet was sure most of the students had no idea those had been Death Eaters flying overhead. The most unsettling thing to Harriet was that even if it had come from the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort, they were right. Fudge and his Ministry were doing terrible things.

The carriage came to a stop in front of the main entrance. Harriet and the rest climbed out. Harriet’s emotional roller-coaster began another climb as she looked up at the dark castle. She supposed to anyone else, the sight of the tall, ancient castle at night would be imposing, but to Harriet it was the most welcoming sight she’d seen all day.

“What’s that?” Ronnie asked, pointing out into the grounds.

Harriet saw at once what Ronnie was talking about. It was a small building in the middle of the grounds, just out of reach of the Whomping Willow. It looked cheap and haphazardly made.

“No idea,” Dora said.

“Your father never mentioned it?” Kieran asked.

Dora crossed her arms, irritably. “The Ministry issued a decree last week that dissolved the governors entirely. They now control all aspects of the running of Hogwarts…”

Marcus whistled. “That’s… not good…”

“No…” Scott said, glancing at another flier some students were whispering over. “Must be what the fliers are referring to…”

Harriet shivered. What did this mean, now? How much power did Professor McGonagall have now? What was the Ministry going to do?

“Let’s just get inside,” Hermione said.

None of them needed to be told twice. They hurried inside with the rest of the students.

“There you are!”

Harriet finally smiled as Rachel Kane popped out of the crowd, hugging Harriet tightly. Harriet noted dismally that Rachel was now taller than her. This made her the shortest girl in their dorm.

“We all heard what happened,” Rachel said, looking Harriet over. “So happy you’re okay.”

“Thanks Rach,” Harriet said. “Yeah, I’m… I’m fine.”

Rachel gave Harriet a look that said all too plainly she didn’t believe her. Tori and Jackson joined them now. Harriet started getting irritable again as both were clearly just as worried about her.

“Harriet Potter-Dusk though, huh?” Jackson smiled. “Gotsta say it’s a good name.”

“Thanks, Jackson,” Harriet said, glad the conversation moved to a happier topic again.

“Inside, everyone. Into the Great Hall. The first years are about to arrive.”

The voice of Professor Snape gave Harriet a chill. She’d been expecting Professor McGonagall. She kept forgetting that Professor Snape was now the deputy headmaster.

Professor Snape passed by. He didn’t need to say anymore. Most students were so terrified of Professor Snape that the sound of his voice quelled all talking in the entrance hall at once and everyone began filing into the Great Hall.

Harriet glanced up at Professor Snape as they passed. True to form, Professor Snape ignored her.

“Git,” Ronnie hissed.

“He’s our new deputy headmaster and he’s in the Order!” Hermione whispered back.

“Doesn’t stop him being a git.”

Harriet gave Professor Snape’s back a dirty look. Now she was in his presence again, she realized she wasn’t entirely over what had happened down in Avalon. Professor Snape disappeared from sight as Harriet entered the Great Hall.

Harriet stopped, Dora bumping into her.

There was another table in the Great Hall, right in the middle between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables. She counted again. Yes, there were now five house tables. The new table was already populated with students, and had bright pink banners hanging over it with a fluffy, white cat emblazoned on it. Harriet recognized Fern at once. She was not alone in this. Many of the boys at other tables who had already taken their seats were craning their necks to get a look.

Harriet noted that Fern was sitting far away from her old friends. Harriet’s stomach twisted in knots at the sight of Colm. He gave her a sad little wave, which she half-heartedly returned.

Beside him, a dark haired, olive-skinned boy was sitting with the Tyler sisters, Kenley and Katy, who were both hugging him with teary eyes. Harriet supposed that was Don, their long-lost friend. Finn had spoken about him last year, and how he’d been captured and spent time in a secessionist labour camp. Harriet wondered what horrors he must have been through. He’d been freed for some time now, and still he looked skittish, and jumped when a nearby Hufflepuff laughed loudly.

 “Okay, that’s… weird…” Dora said, waving at Krystelle, yet looking the table over.

“And horrific,” Ronnie said, looking up at the banners.

“What on earth…?” Hermione gaped.

Another girl rose and waved towards the door, Dora returning it, smiling. Harriet recognized her as Krystelle Gandy, one of Finn and Fern’s old friends. Harriet noted that Fern was sitting almost as far away from them at the table as she could.

Rachel began to explain. “That’s Ur—”

Rachel was cut off when Professor McGonagall stood, looking around the room in her imperious fashion. The students still standing began moving to their tables at once. No sooner had Harriet sat than Professor Snape entered from the side door where the first years would enter. He was carrying the ancient Sorting Hat and little stool.

“So weird,” Ronnie whispered.

“Are the first years ready, Professor Snape?” Professor McGonagall asked.

“Yes, Headmistress,” Professor Snape replied.

“Then let them in, and let’s all welcome them to Hogwarts.”

Professor Snape walked back to the door, opening it and stepping aside. The first years began filing in. Harriet felt a pang of sympathy and affection as she saw the nervous look on all their little faces. Even the older faces looked around with mixed amounts of wonder and irritation. Most did seem impressed with the enchanted ceiling, at least.

Harriet returned her attention to the staff table. It looked empty with so few familiar faces there. There was Professor McGonagall where Professor Dumbledore always sat. Hagrid was gone, replaced by the strange bearded man who’d just taken his seat beside Professor Flitwick. She saw Mum’s empty seat, between Professors Sprout and Spring. Professor Stratton and Professor Sutler were missing as well. Harriet supposed their missions for the Order were not over, either.

Professor Spring was in her usual seat. This was the first that Harriet had seen her since the wedding. Her hair seemed flatter than usual, not as spiky in the back. She was looking down at the table, her face uncharacteristically sullen.

She did feel reassured to see Captain Kane. He was wearing his dress military uniform again, rather than robes as the rest of the staff. Many of the other Gryffindors were pointing at him and whispering. Rachel was grinning with pride at them all.

He was sitting beside Percy. Percy looked as pompous and full of himself as ever. No one else looked that thrilled. Not even the other teachers.

Harriet blinked as she saw the final new face. It was a face she definitely recognized, and was none-too-happy to see. It was Fudge’s senior undersecretary, Dolores Umbridge, wearing a fluffy, pink cardigan and a flower in her hair. She had been at Sirius’ trial where she tried to make arguments for Sirius being sent back to Azkaban. She had also wanted some vampires arrested after the murder of Karkaroff just because they were vampires. What on earth was she doing here?

Across the table from Harriet, Tori followed Harriet’s gaze and scowled. Apparently, Harriet wasn’t the only one who disapproved of Umbridge. She wondered what Tori didn’t like about her.

Harriet returned her attention to the front of the room as the Sorting Hat began its song.

 

_In times of old when I was new_

_And Hogwarts barely started_

_The founders of our noble school_

_Thought never to be parted;_

_United by a common goal,_

_They had the selfsame yearning,_

_To make the world’s best magic school_

_And pass along their learning._

_‘Together we will build and teach!’_

_The four good friends decided_

_And never did they dream that they_

_Might some day be divided,_

_For were there such friends anywhere_

_As Slytherin and Gryffindor?_

_Unless it was the second pair_

_Of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw?_

_So how could it have gone so wrong?_

_How could such friendships fail?_

_Why, I was there and so can tell_

_The whole sad, sorry tale._

_Said Slytherin, ‘I’ll teach just those_

_Whose ancestry is purest.’_

_Said Ravenclaw, ‘I’ll teach those whose_

_Intelligence is surest.’_

_Said Gryffindor, ‘we’ll teach all those_

_With brave deeds to their names.’_

_Said Hufflepuff, ‘I’ll teach the lot,_

_And treat them just the same.’_

_These differences caused little strife_

_When first they came to light,_

_For each of the four founders had_

_A house in which they might_

_Take only those they wanted, so,_

_For instance, Slytherin_

_Took only pure-blood wizards_

_Of great cunning, just like him,_

_And only those of sharpest mind_

_Were taught by Ravenclaw_

_While the bravest and the boldest_

_Went to daring Gryffindor._

_Good Hufflepuff, she took the rest,_

_And taught them all she knew,_

_Thus the houses and their founders_

_Retained friendships firm and true._

_So Hogwarts worked in harmony_

_For several happy years,_

_But then discord crept among us_

_Feeding on our faults and fears._

_The houses that, like pillars four,_

_Had once held up our school,_

_Now turned upon each other and,_

_Divided, sought to rule._

_And for a while it seemed the school_

_Must meet an early end,_

_What with duelling and with fighting_

_And the clash of friend on friend_

_And at last there came a morning_

_When old Slytherin departed_

_And though the fighting then died out_

_He left us quite downhearted._

_And never since the founders four_

_Were whittled down to three_

_Have the houses been united_

_As they once were meant to be._

_And now the Sorting Hat is here_

_And you all know the score:_

_I sort you into houses_

_Because that is what I’m for,_

_But this year I’ll go further,_

_Listen closely to my song:_

_Though condemned I am to split you_

_Still I worry that it’s wrong,_

_Though I must fulfil my duty_

_And must quarter every year_

_Still I wonder whether Sorting_

_May not bring the end I fear._

_Oh, know the perils, read the signs,_

_The warning history shows,_

_For our Hogwarts is in danger_

_From external, deadly foes_

_And we must unite inside her_

_Or we’ll crumble from within_

_I have told you, I have warned you…_

_Let the Sorting now begin._

 

The Great Hall broke into applause at the Sorting Hat’s song ended. It was much more subdued than Harriet ever remembered. The whispering and gossip was almost as loud as the clapping. No cheers or whistles came this time. Around the Great Hall, Harriet saw students looking at their fliers under the table, talking hurriedly and hushed with their neighbours.

Hermione groaned, noticing too.

“Just what we need,” Hermione said. “That message, on top of those fliers…”

“Fliers?” Nearly Headless Nick asked.

Hermione was about to respond when Professor Snape held up the list of new names. The Great Hall went deathly quiet at once.

“Abercrombie, Euan.”

A timid looking boy with prominent ears stumbled forward. If not for his ears, the Sorting Hat would have fallen straight down to his shoulders.

“ _Gryffindor!”_

Harriet clapped as loudly as the rest of the school as Euan joined their table. Harriet kept studied the new students. She raised her eyebrows as she recognized another face. It was the boy, Marius, from Mount Phoenix who had played the piano, and caught the eye of Ravenclaw Atsuko Makeda.

Atsuko clearly noticed him as well, as did her gossipy little friend Tomomi. Tomomi was practically bouncing up and down in excitement, patting Atsuko’s shoulder. Marius was giving Atsuko an awkward little wave.

“Basco, Marius.”

Marius jumped in surprise hearing his name and made his way to the stool. Professor Snape set the hat upon his head.

_“Ravenclaw!”_

Tomomi shrieked in delight for Atsuko. Marius made his way to the Ravenclaw table. Scott, who was sitting across from the two girls, made room for Marius, shaking his hand in greeting.

Harriet scanned the first years and new students again. She furrowed her brow. Marius wasn’t the only boy who looked familiar. Now the crowd had thinned out a little, she recognized another boy. How could she ever forget him?

He was as small and scrawny as Euan Abercrombie was. He had hair as black as Harriet’s, and his little knees were shaking. His face was round, and the look of fear on his face completed the marks of recognition.

It was the boy she rescued from Dudley’s gang back in Privet Drive. He was a wizard? Harriet tuned out all the others being called forward, waiting for the boy to be called.

“Hithersbee, Gideon.”

The boy moved forward now. He looked as though he was about to pass out from anxiety as he looked around the hall and sat. This time, the hat did completely cover his little head.

_“Gryffindor!”_ the Sorting Hat shouted at once.

Little Gideon exhaled with relief as Professor Snape plucked the hat from his head. Gideon’s face was lit with pride as he made his way to the Gryffindor table. He sat down with Euan, and struck up a conversation at once. Euan seemed to relax a little as Gideon introduced himself.

Just then, Gideon caught Harriet’s eye. He gave her a sheepish little smile and wave. Harriet returned it.

“You know him?” Hermione asked with interest.

“Kind of,” Harriet shrugged. “Ran into him last summer. Dudley’s gang was picking on him.”

Hermione twisted her lips in thought. “This was still in Privet Drive?”

“Yeah,” Harriet confirmed. “Never got his name. Weird… another wizard in Privet Drive.”

“I agree… but not unheard of I suppose,” Hermione mused.

Gideon nudged Euan and pointed Harriet out to him. Euan’s eyes went wide with shock and he began whispering hurriedly to Gideon, looking horrified.

Harriet glowered. She knew too well what Euan was telling Gideon. Great, now the kid she saved was going to think she was an unstable monster, liable to tear him to pieces at the slightest provocation.

To Harriet’s surprise, Gideon looked indignant and began arguing. Eventually, he turned away with a huff, neither boy speaking to each other anymore. Harriet was surprised, and felt a glimmer of appreciation for Gideon. Not everyone in this school was a git, it seemed.

Harriet must have been distracted for longer than she thought, as the next voice she heard being called was: “Scamander, Rolf.”

The name Scamander caught her attention at once. It was the resigned looking older boy she had seen before. Scamander wasn’t exactly a common name. Much like Malfoy, or even Sinistra. In the wizarding world, that had to mean a relation.

Ronnie seemed to agree.

“Scamander? He’s gotta be related to Newt! I’ve gotta ask him. Come on, Gryffindor, Gryffindor, Gryffindor…”

“Shhhh, Dora will get jealous,” Marcus teased.

“As if,” Ronnie retorted. “I just wanna know more about Newt…”

As Rolf passed the staff table, the elderly, bearded man who’d winked at Harriet before gave him a little wave. Rolf waited till his back was to the man before grimacing and rubbing the bridge of his nose in utter embarrassment. Harriet returned her attention to the man in the beard. She squinted, trying to see him clearly in the candle-lit hall.

Realization hit Harriet. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.

_“Gryffindor!”_

“WOO!” Ronnie cheered, clapping enthusiastically.

The bearded old man sighed and gave Rolf another wave. Rolf ignored him, his head low as he came to sit at the Gryffindor Table. Ronnie made room for him, but he moved past to sit at the far end of the table, as far away from everyone else as possible.

“Watanuki, Mayu.”

Harriet returned her attention to the Sorting. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw one of the Gryffindor Fourth Years, Ryan Yukisaki, drop his fork that he’d been fidgeting with.

“ _Gryffindor!”_

Mayu was beaming and yet had watery eyes as she joined the Gryffindors. Ryan was gawking at her. Ginny reached across the table and pushed up on his chin, closing his mouth for him.

Harriet was glad to see Mayu join Gryffindor. During the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the Four Nations students had sat with Gryffindor. She also felt and odd sense of responsibility for Mayu. Harriet made it possible for her to come to Hogwarts, after all.

“Zeller, Rose.”

“ _Hufflepuff!”_

That was it, the final student had been sorted. Professor McGonagall stood.

“Welcome to all our new students,” Professor McGonagall said. “Whatever your circumstance in coming, be you first year, or brought in from afar, we greet you with open arms.”

Professor McGonagall’s eyes drifted to the new, pink table. Her expression was sympathetic and pained, before she returned her attention to the rest of the school.

“Doubtless many of you are hungry, and our much anticipated feast will commence in a moment, but in a change of pace, I feel the announcements must come first. This way I will be sure I have your attention, and you can enjoy the feast at your leisure.”

Ronnie muttered irritably. Her stomach had been growling all through the Sorting.

“As all returning students will no doubt have noticed, Hogwarts has… expanded. Please welcome our new students in Ursula House.”

“Ursula House?” Hermione whispered.

“These are students who formerly attended Rathlin Academy of the Arts (and Magic) before the school was forcibly closed. I am going to ask that you treat them far better than you treated the last guests to come to us after tragedy.”

Many of the students shifted uncomfortably. Harriet remembered all too well the backlash against the American students who came the summer before Harriet’s second year. She didn’t have to feel awkward and guilty. They’d made Harriet and her friends ‘honorary refugees’ after she helped clear their names for the attacks by Slytherin’s monster.

“They are named for one of the students who was obliviated in the horrid attack. A young Squib…”

More awkward muttering, growing angry, filled the hall. Harriet felt angry, but not for the same reason. She knew squibs were often ostracized in wizarding society. The caretaker, Argus Filch, was one. But why was an obliviated squib more tragic than an obliviated muggle? The muggles had been illegally obliviated just as much as the squibs, according to that article.

“As there is no space in the castle in which to house them, they will be living in the new building in the grounds for the time being. This represents a major shift in Hogwarts’ history. They have spent a week here learning about the school to help them blend in as seamlessly as possible.”

To Harriet’s pleasure, she did see some Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws leaning across to shake hands with some of the new former-Rathlin students.

“Now, to the more usual announcements. As you’ll notice, we have had some staffing changes. Firstly, with the departure of Albus Dumbledore, I am now Headmistress of Hogwarts School. Taking my place as deputy headmaster is our Potions Master, and head of Slytherin House, Professor Severus Snape.”

Only Slytherin Table cheered. All but Ursula House, who doubtless had little experience of Professor Snape’s bitterness towards all houses but Slytherin, booed.

“This year, Care of Magical Creatures will be taught by…” Professor McGonagall glanced sideways at the bearded man, her look borderline exasperated. “Skrewt Namander…”

A round of polite applause broke out. Professor Namander waved cheerfully at everyone, pausing to adjust his beard which had almost come off his left ear. Down at the end of the table, Rolf banged his forehead down on his plate. Harriet felt her thoughts confirmed. It wasn’t Skrewt Namander. It could only be—

“Oh Merlin…” Ronnie gasped. “Newt Scamander… that’s Newt-fucking-Scamander! He’s here in disguise. Why is he in disguise? I have to ask… is it the Death Eaters? You think they’re after him for something?”

“Ronnie, shhh,” Hermione hissed.

“But it’s him!”

“We know!” Harriet and the rest shushed.

“While he is not present,” Professor McGonagall continued, “History of Magic lessons are being taken over by the school’s librarian, Giles Robertson.”

More polite applause came at this. Some students looked interested, but others disappointed. Harriet was at least glad to hear they weren’t going back to Professor Binns, and was happy to see that Professor Stratton had made enough of an impression that his presence was going to be missed. Harriet wondered how long they were going to be gone. What were they up to?

“Professor Dusk, nee Sinistra, is presently on her honeymoon, following her wedding this summer, and will return at the end of our first week.”

A wave of panto ‘ooooooos’ swept over the Great Hall. Harriet flushed a little.

“Taking on the duties of Transfiguration professor, and head of Gryffindor House, we have Percy Weasley.”

Mostly boos followed this pronouncement; Gryffindors in particular. Too many remembered Percy’s big-headed ruling of Gryffindor House as a prefect, and as Head Boy. Harriet didn’t boo, but she didn’t applaud, either.

“Taking over Defence Against the Dark Arts this year shall be Captain Aaron Kane.”

Much more enthusiastic applause hit the Great Hall this time. Captain Kane waved but didn’t stand. Harriet noted it was mainly girls who were acting the most excited about Captain Kane’s presence. Studying his hard, handsome face and broad shoulders, Harriet didn’t blame them.

“Captain Kane has kindly agreed to take on the position for this year only whilst he leads a mission for the International Confederation of Wizards investigating our Ministry over the Rathlin Academy attack,” Professor McGonagall explained.

Harriet allowed herself a little smirk. Umbridge and Percy both had very cool looks on their faces. Harriet knew Professor McGonagall was needling them on purpose.

“Does it have to be just this year?” a nearby Hufflepuff whispered a bit too loudly.

A wave of sniggers broke out. Harriet agreed, but not for the same reasons. Captain Kane was smart, and experienced. He would be a good Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Harriet was sure. Though she would still prefer having Remus back.

Captain Kane ignored the tittering. He merely looked bored as he inspected his fingernails. Harriet shook her head. How could he turn himself off like that? Just shut down. Harriet wondered if she could ask him. And if she did, would he tell her?

“And lastly,” a bitter tone came to Professor McGonagall’s voice, as though the words she was speaking were most distasteful, “our new school _counsellor_ —a position created by the Ministry—and head of Ursula House, Dolores Umbridge.”

Harriet heard a wave of cheers at this. She noted that only the Ursula House students were applauding her. Harriet sniffed suspiciously. Something was wrong about that. Harriet thought the Rathlin students, out of everyone, should at the very least dislike someone connected with the Ministry like Umbridge.

Professor McGonagall was about to continue speaking, but stopped. Harriet was confused, then she heard Umbridge clear her throat. It was a high-pitched, almost sarcastic sound. _Hem. Hem_. It made Harriet shiver. Rachel growled. Clearly, Tori wasn’t the only refugee who didn’t like Umbridge. In fact, as Harriet looked around the tables, almost all of the American students were giving Umbridge dirty looks.

Professor McGonagall remained standing, but she didn’t speak.

Umbridge grinned around horribly at the students. Harriet was sure she was trying to look welcoming, but her expression made Harriet feel more like a fly about to be eaten by a particularly horrid frog.

“Thank you, Headmistress, for those kind words of welcome. Well, it is lovely to be back at Hogwarts, I must say! And to see such happy little faces looking up at me!”

There was a wave of talking and sniggers filling the Great Hall at that pronouncement.

“What does she think we are, five?” Marcus muttered. Clearly, he was not very impressed with Umbridge, either.

“ _Hem. Hem.”_

The girlish, airy nature of Umbridge’s speech was gone as she continued. Her speech sounded rehearsed and learned by memory.

“The Ministry of Magic has always considered the education of young witches and wizards to be of vital importance. The rare gifts with which you were born may come to nothing if not nurtured and honed by careful instruction. The ancient skills unique to the wizarding community must be passed down the generations lest we lose them forever. The treasure trove of magical knowledge amassed by our ancestors must be guarded, replenished, and polished by those who have been called to the noble profession of teaching.”

Umbridge bowed to the other teachers, but none of them returned it. Professor Sprout exchanged a look with Professor Spring. Both looked sceptical and suspicious.

“Every headmaster and headmistress of Hogwarts has brought something new to the weighty task of governing this historic school, and that is as it should be, for without progress there will be stagnation and decay. There again, progress for progress’ sake must be discouraged, for our tried and tested traditions often require no tinkering. A balance, then, between old and new, between permanence and change, between tradition and innovation.”

Harriet narrowed her eyes. What was Umbridge on about? What did this have to do with anything?

Harriet glanced around the Great Hall. Only the Ursula House students looked to be enjoying Umbridge’s speech. Other students were paying attention, but the looks on most of their faces were mistrusting at best. Harriet grimaced, remembering the fliers. Indeed, some students were passing theirs around under the tables, whispering to their table neighbours about them, giving Umbridge dirty looks.

Harriet gritted her teeth. On the one hand, the Ministry was indeed interfering at Hogwarts, and generally proving itself to be utterly horrible. On the other hand, this was propaganda they were listening too that had been clearly put out by Lord Voldemort. Voldemort was trying to undermine the Ministry, and it was already working. As little as Harriet enjoyed the Ministry, she didn’t want Voldemort to win any more.

“…because some changes will be for the better, while others will come, in the fullness of time, to be recognised as errors of judgement. Meanwhile, some old habits will be retained, and rightly so, whereas others, outmoded and outworn, must be abandoned. Let us move forward, then, into a new era of openness, effectiveness, and accountability, intent on preserving what ought to be preserved, perfecting what needs to be perfected, and pruning wherever we find practices that ought to be prohibited.”

The din was beginning to grow in the Great Hall. Umbridge cleared her throat once more, and Professor McGonagall looked out hawkishly on the crowd, which fell silent again.

“This brings me to my purpose here at Hogwarts. After such terrible events befell one of our beloved magical schools, many of our poor new students need assistance dealing with their traumas. I am here to help guide them all, and any other student in need of help and caring. Anyone who needs an ear, for any reason, can come to me at my office. No subject is off limits.”

“We’ll see about that,” Fred said from nearby, causing a wave of sniggers from both Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs. Even Harriet snorted a little laugh.

“So, let us please come together for a new and better future at Hogwarts.”

Umbridge sat. Only the Ursula House students clapped. Harriet shook her head in disbelief. Why did they like her so much? They should hate her more than anyone, being from the Ministry. They shouldn’t even need the fliers.

Professor McGonagall looked out over the students again.

“And now that’s over, let the feast begin.”

Food appeared on all the trays up and down the tables. Harriet realized how hungry she was. She ended up loading her plate almost as full as Ronnie’s.

“What?” Harriet asked looking at the bemused faces around her. “I’m hungry…”

The tables all broke out into conversation as the students began to eat. Harriet groaned in appreciation at the taste of the large spoonful of chicken tikka masala, able to feel the swallow go all the way down to her stomach.

“Great,” Marcus said dismally, merely poking his food. “The Ministry’s taking over Hogwarts… and You-Know-Who’s going to use that…”

“I dunno,” Kieran said. “It’s a gamble. I mean… would making people distrust the Ministry really push them into his camp?”

Hermione sighed, shrugging. “In this day and age, I say it could go either way…”

“What’s up with the Rathlin students?” Ronnie asked. “Why do they like her so much?”

“I’ll ask Fern,” Hermione said. “But there is something suspicious about that, no doubt.”

“Damn right there is,” Jackson said.

“What you mean?” Harriet asked through a full mouth.

“She showed up with all the Rathlin students,” Rachel chimed in. “First they all hated her. But bit by bit, over the course of the week, they all started liking her. Like… _really_ liking her.”

“Something’s wrong about it,” Tori said. “And she wouldn’t let any of us mingle. Not until they started acting like they liked her. They won’t shut up about how great she is. We haven’t forgotten, though…”

“Forgotten what?”

Tori sniffed. “She’s tried to have us all sent back to the US several times.”

“And she made Epeius live in the forest,” Jackson growled. He tightened his grip on his fork so hard that he bent the prongs with his thumb.

“She what?” Hermione gasped.

“Yeah,” Jackson grunted, trying to straighten his fork again. “She said he’s not a proper pet and so wasn’t allowed on the—thanks,” he muttered as Rachel repaired the fork for him with her wand “—grounds. McGonagall fought her on it, but she ran crying to the Ministry and they made McGonagall bend.”

“Is he alright?” Ronnie asked, her eyes wide with worry.

“Yes, he’s fine,” Jackson muttered. “He’s too fast for anything in there to catch. But it’s just shitty.”

“What are those paper things?” Rachel asked, craning her neck to try and get a better look.

“Propaganda,” Hermione said, her voice full of distaste. “Trying to turn students against the Ministry.”

“So… what’s the problem?” Jackson asked.

“Because it’s from Lord Voldemort,” Harriet replied.

Harriet’s friends all shuddered, but the Americans ignored the mentioning of Lord Voldemort’s name. Other students within earshot all gasped and scoffed, giving Harriet scandalised looks. Harriet ignored them.

“Okay, that’s not so good then,” Tori nodded.

“No…” Kieran sighed.

The group fell silent and resumed eating. Just great. Now she was worrying about the Ministry and Lord Voldemort. Too many people believed a stupid article that she was either Kinney’s puppet, or a living bomb. What else was going to go wrong this year? And it had only just started.

## * * * *

The Gryffindors were quiet as they headed up to Gryffindor Tower. Hermione and Marcus had gone ahead to lead the First Years. Harriet, Kieran, and Ronnie were walking along with Neville, Basheera, Rachel, Tori, and Jackson. As they walked, Harriet could hear students whispering.

She chanced glances around. Most of the whisperers would stop and look away from her the moment she caught their eyes. Harriet clenched her fists, and did her best to put them out of her mind.

The password was passed along as they waited to climb through the portrait hole. Neville beamed with delight at the revelation the new password was _mimbulus mimbletonia._

Harriet climbed through. Most of her Quidditch team was already sitting by the fire. Angelina was sitting with Fred, giving him a soft smile as they chatted. Erica was welcoming George back rather enthusiastically. In fact, she was straddling his lap, her arms wrapped around his neck, George’s hands slid into the back pockets of her tight jeans as they kissed.

Harriet had to look away, not out of disgust, but to fight down the pangs of jealousy rising inside her. She could use a good snog like the ones she and Fred shared last year to take her mind off things. She glanced at Fred and Angelina again. She knew that look in Angelina’s eye. Well, good for her, Harriet supposed, dismally.

Harriet took DIDS out of his pouch. He stretched and looked around, sniffing the air. Harriet put him onto her shoulder and headed for the staircase to the girl dormitories. Ronnie followed, yawning and stretching.

Harriet had to agree. She’d eaten far too much, and was coming over quite tired after such a long, unpleasantly eventful day. At least it was only Friday. They had two days of the weekend left before classes began on Monday.

Harriet was a few steps up the staircase when the sound of voices made her pause. They were clearly angry voices, arguing petulantly.

Harriet and Ronnie exchanged a glance and kept ascending. They paused as they came to their door. The arguing was coming from further up the stairs. Close enough to hear clearly, Harriet recognised Hermione’s voice.

“This is complete lunacy,” Hermione said. “You’re that afraid of a stupid article, written before any of the facts of the matter came out, that you’ve requested a new dormitory?”

“Obscuriuses aren’t lunacy!” Harriet heard Lavender retort.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” Ronnie declared.

“But she’s not an Obscurus!” Hermione said. “Anyone who’s read two sentences on them could tell that!”

“No one knows anything about them,” Lavender said. “And we’re not taking chances.”

There was the slamming of a door and Hermione came storming down towards them. Her hands were clenched, and her face was burning. Harriet felt torn. She both felt anger at Parvati and Lavender, and a deep sense of affection for Hermione over her rage on Harriet’s behalf.

Hermione’s anger abated at the sight of Harriet.

“Sorry,” she said. “You heard that, I’m guessing.”

Harriet and Ronnie nodded.

Hermione sighed. “Forget them. They’ll learn the truth. Let’s… just get to bed. We can get our all out of our weekend to have fun and relax before classes begin.”

Ronnie scoffed. “You? Relax before classes? Aren’t you usually annoyed we don’t start classes right away?”

“Well, I am,” Hermione admitted. “But I’ve started to teach myself proper priorities.”

Hermione gave Harriet a gentle smile and put her arm in Harriet’s. Harriet’s appreciation for Hermione quadrupled as they headed for their dorm. Harriet paused on the threshold. She noted that there were less beds in the room, after all. And more than two.

Hermione twisted her lips. “AJ moved with Parvati and Lavender… I don’t _think_ she believes the stupid papers like they do… but… they are her best friends here.”

Harriet merely walked to her trunk. DIDS leapt down from Harriet’s shoulder onto her bed, bouncing a couple times before scampering to her pillow and curling up. Crookshanks watched the little dragon with narrowed eyes, his brush-like tail swishing.

Harriet opened her trunk, taking out some pyjamas. She also took out Finn, hugging him a little. She wasn’t letting him out of her sight again this year. She was about to close her trunk when something else caught her eye. She moved aside some of her clothes and saw Professor Dumbledore’s Pensieve.

Harriet stole a glance over her shoulder. Ronnie and Hermione were setting up their own beds and belongings, distracted. Harriet tried to lift the Pensieve, but it was far too heavy for her to move discreetly. She’d have to keep it safe in there for the time being.

Harriet changed into her pyjamas. She looked at the places where Parvati, Lavender, and AJ’s beds used to be. Unbidden, anger began rising in her again.

What the hell was wrong with them? She’d known them for years. She was friends with Lavender and Parvati before she’d even become friends with Hermione. They gave her the cute little running cat hairclip that she loved. They helped her style her hair for the first time in her life.

Harriet yanked back her covers, and shut her bedcurtains. DIDS growled with agitation but Harriet just nudged him aside, flopping her head down on her pillow.

This was so stupid, all of it. The worst part was how little control Harriet had. She was stuck at school while the Ministry seemed ready to lose everything pretending that Lord Voldemort wasn’t actually back. Lord Voldemort was trying to turn children against the Ministry (and from what Harriet had seen, it was likely to work). Daddy and Mum were miles away on the mainland.

Little by little, the room went quiet. Hermione and Ronnie were giving Harriet her space. Harriet looked at Finn’s faint glow as the room finally went totally dark. She looked towards her trunk, then back at Finn. He’d always been there for her when she needed him. He’d taken down Rita Skeeter for her.

Harriet held him close again. Maybe, just maybe, he could be useful again. Just by getting to see his face and smile.

_No,_ said the little voice in Harriet’s mind. _We’ve been over this. Those are private_.

_But he wanted you to have them._

_Just to keep them safe!_

_Well, he’ll never know if we don’t tell him… and… we can be alone there._

_That’s… a good point…_

_Yeah, they can’t see us in memories, right? It’s just like getting to walk around inside a film._

_True…_

Harriet knew what she was going to do. The moment everyone was asleep, she was going to open her trunk, and run away. She was going to run away somewhere no one could see her, no one could hear her, where she could be truly alone. There would be no Lord Voldemort there. No Solomon Kinney. No one whispering behind her back.

And she’d get to see him again. Not just a tinny voice in headphones. Not just a faintly glowing jar. The real Finn…

_Sorry Finn… I have to…_


	15. The Muggle's Tale

“Large or small, everyone faces their own struggles.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet opened her trunk as quietly as she could. It was just after three in the morning. She was going to be exhausted, but that didn’t matter. They had all weekend for her to rest up.

She moved her belongings aside, looking down on the Pensieve. Again, she was struck with the predicament on how to get it out quietly. She’d had her own room when she put it in.

Harriet grunted as she tried to lift the big stone basin onto her lap. It scrapped in the bottom of the trunk and she stopped at once, glancing over her shoulder. After a few moments Harriet was sure she hadn’t woken anyone.

Harriet crossed her arms in frustration. How was she supposed to lift this stupid basin out of her trunk when it weighed so much? Why hadn’t someone invented a spell—

Harriet scowled angrily at her own stupidity as she tapped the basin with her wand.

_“Wingardium Leviosa,”_ she whispered.

The basin began to rise at once. Harriet guided it as gently as she could to the foot of her bed. She felt satisfied as the basin settled down soundlessly on her mattress. She closed her trunk and quickly climbed back onto her bed, shutting the curtains.

_“Lumos.”_

Harriet set down her lit wand and picked up Finn. She put her hand on the lid when again the little voice in her head stopped her.

_Really, this isn’t right._

Harriet bit her lip.

_But I already have the Pensieve out. And… Dumbledore gave this to me for a reason._

Harriet thought harder. Dumbledore said Finn would need to use the Pensieve to revisit his memories. They couldn’t just be put back in his head. Harriet had no idea how to do this. She had to know in order to help, didn’t she?

As far as Harriet knew, all that was necessary was to put the memories in the Pensieve. Professor Dumbledore gave this to Harriet for a reason. She had to know how it worked.

Harriet took a deep breath, and twisted the lid. She immediately almost dropped it.

Harriet just managed to keep herself from crying out in shock as she fumbled with the jar. The lid was on far tighter than she’d anticipated.

Harriet flopped back on her bed, panting heavily from the panic that had quickly set in. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea, after all? What would happen to the memories if they fell out on the bed? Would it ruin them? Somehow, the realization that Harriet was literally holding Finn’s life in her hands washed over Harriet like a tidal wave.

No, Harriet couldn’t do this. She had to put it away. This was stupid. This was too dangerous. She’d figure it out when Finn was finally found.

Harriet looked down at the jar. On the top was the ancient coin that Kreacher had given her. She smiled softly at it. She was proud of how far the little elf had come. He deserved to be happy, and soon he would be.

Harriet sat up. She managed to help Kreacher and Sirius put their differences aside. She could do this. It was just opening a jar. She can open a jar.

Harriet twisted the lid off, trying at once to be more careful, and yet stronger. It finally started to twist. Harriet felt satisfied as it came off. She set the lid inside and looked into the jar. She felt a tingling on her skin, as if the memories were electric.

Harriet looked at the basin. Professor Dumbledore had just poured a little vial of memories into the basin before. But this was an entire jar.

She didn’t dare touch the memories with her fingers. She picked up her wand again, and gently touched it to the swirling memories.

Nothing happened.

Harriet lifted the wand now, and to her delight, she saw a single strand of memory dangling from the tip. Satisfied with herself, but continuing to be as careful as possible, Harriet moved her wand over the Pensieve. She lowered the memory into the basin, and the moment the memory touched the bottom of the basin, it fell away from the wand and spread out into a thin, misty layer.

Harriet repeated this with another memory. Then another. After five times she stopped, satisfied. She wouldn’t spend much time in the memories. This was just an exploration. This was for Finn’s benefit, and hers. Harriet could find out the memories to start him out on. She could also enjoy the closest thing to solitude she was likely to enjoy here at Hogwarts.

Harriet listened hard. She heard nothing but the sound of Ronnie’s snoring. Satisfied, Harriet looked down into the basin, took a deep breath, and lowered her face to the surface of the memories. The memories spread to the side of the basin and a sort of portal opened in them. Harriet didn’t recognize the scene, but she leaned lower.

Harriet felt as though she tipped over and at once was falling through the air. It was a slow descent, somewhere between falling and floating. It was a rather pleasant sensation, actually, once she got used to it.

Harriet landed on her feet. She looked around, eagerly looking for Finn. She was standing in the middle of a little sitting room. There was a fireplace and a little sofa, a small kitchen table, and a balcony and sliding glass door. There was a doorway off the room that led into a hallway.

She heard the sharp plucking of a guitar coming from the hallway. She heard laughter and followed the sounds. To her left when she stepped into the hallway was a kitchen. A large pot of soup was simmering on the top of the gas stove, and there was only a little fridge.

To her front was a doorway Harriet assumed led to a bedroom. She turned to see another door to her right down the hallway. She crept to the door on instinct, and peeked into the cracked door.

There was a young man and woman, around Daddy and Mum in age, sitting in chairs either side of a young boy who looked to be no older than five or six. All three of them had guitars, the little boy with a miniature one he was able to hold. In the corner was a toddler playing with some little action figures, talking to them in a high-pitched, squealing voice.

“Let’s hear the scale again, Finno,” the man said grinning.

Harriet gasped. It was young Finn in the chair. Even then, he was a bit stocky of build, but his hair was even curlier, and a lighter brown. The little toddler must then be Colm. He was adorable, with a little mop of straight brown hair and a round little head.

Finn’s father was very tall, taller even than Sirius. He had dark brown, straight hair and a beard, though hints of grey were beginning to show. His mother was shorter and stockier of build, more like Finn. He seemed to be right in between the two in build and height. Little Colm it seemed would take much more after the father’s side.

Harriet shook her head watching the little family. They seemed so nice and happy, even in this little glimpse. Pride was all over Finn’s parents’ faces as they looked down at him and his little guitar. How was this the same family that was torn apart by bombings and death?

Finn strummed out some scales, glaring with frustration as he got one wrong.

“Stupid,” he muttered to himself.

“Nay love,” Finn’s mother said, gently stroking little Finn’s hair. “You’re just starting.”

“Wanna be the best,” Finn grumbled, trying again.

“Ah, you think we were so good startin’ out at your age?” Finn’s father chuckled.

“Wanna know a little secret?” Finn’s mother whispered.

Finn nodded, looking up at her with wide eyes.

“Neither of us could play guitar at all at your age,” she continued.

Finn’s little jaw dropped.

Finn’s father smiled. “Nae, lad, I didn’t learn to play till I was over _twice_ your age.”

“That’s why you’re so special,” Finn’s mother said. “Our special boy… so talented.”

Little Finn blushed and smiled, resuming practicing the scale, focusing determinedly.

At that moment, the doorbell rang. Mr and Mrs Negus exchanged looks. Finn’s little face fell.

“You two gotta go?”

“No, no, Finno,” Mr Negus said. “Just getting a package.”

Harriet stepped back as Mr and Mrs Negus opened the door and stepped into the hallway, heading towards the front door. Harriet looked in the room proper. Finn’s face was still sad, but he kept practicing. Colm was looking at Finn, seemingly bored with his toys.

Harriet heard a metallic sound. She peeked around the corner where the parents had gone and saw both Mr and Mrs Negus checking pistols. Both were armed.

Harriet stared, transfixed. What was going on? The parents opened the door a crack. Harriet couldn’t hear what was being said, but there were two people on the other side of the door, whispering. Harriet moved closer.

Harriet blinked, unable to understand what they were saying even though she was standing right behind the pair. It was then Harriet realized they weren’t speaking English. They were speaking Gaelic.

The men outside passed the parents a package. Harriet stepped back as the parents shut and locked the door. They walked back past Harriet and turned into the bathroom. This time they left the door open and Harriet followed them inside.

Mr Negus opened the package. Mrs Negus let out a sigh of relief and hugged Mr Negus tightly.

“This is it… this is enough,” Mr Negus said. “Our boys are going…”

Harriet looked into the open package. Inside were five thick stacks of banknotes. Mr Negus took one out, flipping through it. Each one was marked with 100.

“This is it,” Mrs Negus mirrored Mr Negus. “We can send both of them to Rathlin on this…”

Harriet stared. They were holding fifty thousand Irish pounds. They were going to use that money to send Finn and Colm to Rathlin. Harriet clapped a hand over her mouth. There was only one thing this could mean to Harriet. Finn was right. His parents were guilty. This must have been their payment for a bombing.

She felt queasy as Mr Negus knelt behind their toilet, pulling out a piece of the wainscoting. He slid out a tin box, opened it, and dropped the stacks of money into it. Harriet turned away from them and slowly made her way back down the hallway.

Finn and Colm; both went to Rathlin on money their parents made from carrying out terror attacks. Did Finn know that? She couldn’t ask. She leaned on the doorway to Finn and Colm’s bedroom, looking in. Finn was still practicing his scales. Colm was now standing next to Finn, just poking his cheek over and over again.

Finn’s face was scrunched up with frustration. Harriet could tell he was deeply annoyed, but was doing his best to ignore Colm and keep focusing on his practicing.

“Stop it,” Finn muttered.

“Stop it,” Colm repeated.

Finn glowered more, but kept his practicing. Harriet kept watching with amazement as Finn focused so hard on ignoring Colm’s pestering. Was it his focusing on the practicing, or was he just that patient?

## * * * *

Harriet didn’t get to find that answer. For at that moment, the world began to fade and swirl. She was moving on to a new memory. Harriet found herself in a dimly lit room. There was a table with a man and a woman sitting at it. They were wearing prison clothes, and wore shackles.

Harriet’s stomach clenched. She recognised both of them. It was Finn’s parents. This had to be after they were finally caught.

The door opened. A guard entered, with two men in suits in tow, another guard, then a painfully familiar gentleman walking with his hand on a young boy’s shoulder. It was Professor Howe. He looked younger, but his face was full of more pain than Harriet thought she’d ever seen on it.

The boy with him had to be Finn. He was perhaps nine in this memory. She thought she remembered Finn saying his parents went away when he was nine.

“May we please... have a little privacy?” Professor Howe asked. “So the boy can properly say goodbye?”

One of the suited men looked as though he was about to deny this request, when Professor Howe’s hand twitched behind his back. Harriet moved around just enough to see that he was holding his wand. The man’s face went blank for a moment before he smiled.

“Of course.”

The other man and the two guards looked confused, but with three more twitches of Howe’s wand, they also went placid and agreed. Mr and Mrs Negus exchanged looks when the men left the room, closing the door behind them.

Professor Howe turned his attention to Finn’s parents. Finn was shaking a little.

“M-mam... Dad...”

Professor Howe guided Finn to a chair across from the two. Finn sat, but Professor Howe did not. When he cast his eyes upon Finn’s parents, they were full of anger and betrayal.

Mr Negus sighed. “Finn, Finno... We’re going away for a while.”

“Bit more than a while,” Mrs Negus said, her eyes watering.

“In fact... we’re... likely... we’ll never see you again...”

“What?” Finn sniffled, looking back and forth between the two.

“Your father and I did... we did things, Finn.”

“Bad things...” Mr Negus said. “You’re going to hear people talk about what we did...”

“And we’re not going to lie to you, Finn... You need to know the truth so you can move on with your life and look after your brother.”

“We did what they say we did, Finno. We pleaded guilty.”

“...What did you do...?”

“Murder,” Professor Howe said, his voice boiling over with accusation.

Mr and Mrs Negus both fell silent.

“Yes,” Mr Negus finally admitted.

Finn kept looking around between the three. Harriet was dying inside as she watched the little boy trying to make sense of what was happening. It was true. It really was true. His parents had really killed those people.

“We need to say goodbye now, Finn,” Mrs Negus said. “You need to be a good boy, okay? You need to be strong for your brother.”

“Yes... Mam...” Finn whispered, his little eyes watering.

“Come here.”

It was hard for Mr and Mrs Negus to open their arms properly, but Finn still rose and rounded the table, hugging them.

“Why?” she heard his little voice ask. “Why...?”

“We... we were trying to make things better...”

Professor Howe snorted. Mr and Mrs Negus both gave him dirty looks. The look Professor Howe bent upon them quelled their disdain, however. Professor Howe looked ready to murder them in turn.

“Take care of your brother, Finno...” Mr Negus said. “And... don’t tell him about us...”

“Tell him... we’re dead... that we died.”

“But... but you’re not...”

“We are,” Mr Negus agreed. “To you... and to Colm... we’re dead.”

“We’re never coming back from where we’re going...” Mrs Negus said. “You’ll never see us again after today.”

“But...”

“You’re going to live with Professor Howe from now on,” Mrs Negus continued. “He’s going to look after you. You’ll live at school with him and Doctor Watkins...”

“Take care of your brother,” Mr Negus said. “That’s an order, soldier.”

Mr Negus’ lips twitched, and he tried to smile, but couldn’t. Finn’s lip was trembling, and his cheeks were soaked with tears.

“Be a good boy for Professor Howe,” Mrs Negus said.

“We love you, Finno.”

“And we’re so proud of you...”

“Keep practicing. Always keep practicing.”

“Look after your brother. Keep him happy.”

“Promise us, Finno, promise you’ll take care of Colm.”

“P-promise,” Finn whimpered.

“That’s our boy,” Mrs Negus said hugging Finn as tight as she could.

Professor Howe knocked on the door. It opened and one of the guards poked his head in.

“The boy’s ready, but I need a few minutes.”

“Right you are, sir,” the guard said, walking over to Finn.

Finn shook his head and hugged his parents tighter.

“No!” he cried out. “Don’t go, Mam! Dad!”

“We’re sorry,” Mrs Negus sobbed.

“So sorry...”

“No!” Finn kept shouting. “No! No let go! Mam! MAM!”

The guard pulled Finn from the room as gently as he could. Mrs Negus was still sobbing. Professor Howe’s face was devoid of pity.

“Are you happy? Was it worth it? You betrayed your children, and now you’ve lost them. You’ve cost them their parents. Are you happy? You paid me blood money. You made me complicit in your murders...”

“We just wanted what was best...”

The scene began to dissolve. Harriet could still hear little Finn’s cries from the hallway. The words echoed in her head, his shrill calls for his parents. Pleading and sobbing.

Professor Howe was about to speak more, but again the scene began to dissolve. Harriet felt hollow inside. Finn really did know. He was only nine, and his parents told him the truth, that they’d done terrible things. Things Finn wasn’t old enough to understand at the time. Things he must have looked up and discovered later.

_Oh, Finn_...

## * * * *

When everything rematerialized, Harriet was now standing outside. The sky was overcast, and the wind whipping, yet she still had to shield her eyes from the brightness after being in the dark holding room. She was behind a large, brick building with many windows. There were several other such buildings around, with sidewalks criss-crossing the open space between them.

There was the sound of seabirds and music all around. The air smelled like the sea. Harriet deduced that this must be Rathlin. The buildings around her were likely the dormitories.

A grunt to Harriet’s right caught her attention. She looked around and her chest clenched at once. There were six boys in the middle of a brawl behind one of the dormitories. Harriet hurried over and felt her sense of shock increase. It wasn’t six boys fighting. It was one boy in a fight with five.

Harriet stared, dumbstruck. The lone boy was Finn. What on earth was he doing fighting five other boys?

Finn and the boys looked around thirteen or fourteen. Most of them had bloody noses or cut lips. They were more tussling than fighting. Finn would grab hold of one boy while the others would try and punch and kick his back. Finn would land some body-blows on the boy he’d grabbed then push him away and move to another one.

There was so much anger and determination in Finn’s face, Harriet didn’t see him flinch once at any of the hits. Harriet wanted to do something. She felt powerless, watching Finn begin to slow. He was getting tired. He could clearly take hits better than they could, but he couldn’t fight them all as long.

She noted something else odd about the way Finn was fighting. He never tried to dodge body-blows, but he would dodge punches aimed for his face. Harriet also noticed that he never really punched back. Instead he seemed to use his elbows and the sides of his fists in swinging blows.

Harriet looked around. Where were the adults? Someone had to stop this. Her eyes fell on a younger boy who was also watching. He was dancing back and forth on his feet, wringing his hands anxiously. His clothes were also a bit dishevelled, and there was a cut on his cheek. His hair was brown and straight, worn in a bowl-cut.

It was young Colm.

“Stay down, stupid Taig,” one of the bullies said.

Harriet looked back and saw Finn was lying on his back. He was breathing heavily, the boys standing around him looking smug. Harriet didn’t know what they were looking so satisfied about. They all looked as beat up as Finn, and it was just him against the rest.

Finn laughed, and started getting back up. The other boys looked around at each other in disbelief. They were about to start in on him again when there was a popping noise. A tall, painfully familiar man appeared behind the tallest of the attacking boys.

“Five on one, is it?” Professor Howe asked.

The five boys froze. Finn was smiling, despite one of his eyes beginning to bruise. He smiled at Colm and gave him a little salute. Colm gave Finn an ever-suffering look. Clearly Colm had matured quite a bit since that first memory.

“And just what is going on, here?” Professor Howe asked. Harriet could tell he was being rhetorical.

“He started it, Professor!” the tall boy said pointing to Finn. “We were just funning and he started—”

The boy fell silent. It was clear from the look on Professor Howe’s face he was not buying what the boy was going to try and sell.

“This is the third time this term, boys,” Professor Howe said. “You five, to Doctor Watkins’ office. He’s waiting for you there. If you do not arrive, more than just letters will be sent home to your parents, is that understood?”

“Yes, Professor,” the five boys muttered in unison.

“I did not hear you.”

“Yes, Professor,” they repeated, loudly and clearly.

“Good,” Professor Howe said. “Off with you.”

The boys slouched away. Professor Howe watched them go. Finn stood all the way up again, breathing heavily.

“What did they do this time?”

Finn sniffed and wiped some blood from his nose. “They hit Colm...called him a flit...”

Professor Howe’s face hardened.

“I am aware, Finn... but they will get what is coming to them. My concern at the moment is for you. Parents have begun writing to me about you. You did not start this fight, but you _have_ started them in the past, haven’t you?”

Finn’s hands clenched and he suddenly couldn’t look Professor Howe in the eye.

Professor Howe crouched low enough to look Finn square on.

“Finn... I swore to your parents I would look after you. But I can’t save you from yourself. You can’t...”

Professor Howe sighed and stood. “Colm... are you alright?”

Colm’s eyes were still watering, but he nodded.

“Please... please go see the matron. Tell her what happened and that I’m aware and am dealing with the situation.”

“Y-yes, Professor,” the boy stammered.

Colm began to head off. Finn went to follow but Professor Howe put a hand on Finn’s shoulder, stopping him.

“No, Finn, you’re coming with me,” Professor Howe said.

Finn looked after his brother, worry and resentment on his face.

“He’ll get there,” Professor Howe said. “Now come along...”

The pair walked along in total silence. As they went, Harriet couldn’t help but observe the grounds. There were many brick buildings all around the open plain. It looked so much newer than Hogwarts, more like a proper school. Harriet found it hard to reconcile the fact that magic was taught here, a place that looked so normal.

The view, however, was rather breath-taking. They reached a red brick building that Harriet took to be the main offices. It was the closest to the sea, overlooking jutting rocks and the raucous calls of seabirds filled the air.

Harriet followed the two up into the building. They passed a secretary at a desk just inside the entrance. They headed up two flights of stairs, coming to the top floor. There were only two offices on this floor. Harriet could hear angry voices coming from the nearest door. The curtain was pulled over the window of the door, but Harriet was sure it was Doctor Watkin’s voice, chewing out the five bullies.

Professor Howe opened his office door and Harriet followed them inside. Professor Howe’s office was perhaps humbler than Professor Dumbledore’s but still fascinating. He didn’t have a window. Instead, every wall, and even the sides of his desk, were covered in book shelves. They ran from floor to ceiling on the walls.

There were many odd gadgets and gizmos on all the flat surfaces as in Professor Dumbledore’s office, but that wasn’t what caught Harriet’s eye. What caught Harriet’s eye was perhaps the most ordinary object in the room. It was a violin.

The violin was nothing special. Certainly, the average person would overlook it. It was old, with worn varnish, and numerous scratches here and there.

But Harriet knew that violin. She would never forget it. What was the Violinist’s violin doing here in Professor Howe’s office? Harriet gasped looking around at Professor Howe as the truth ran over her like a van.

“Finn,” Professor Howe said, sitting behind his desk. “I can’t keep protecting you...”

“But—”

“Finnbar,” Professor Howe interrupted. “You need to listen—please—need to listen. As I said, I have already received numerous letters about you from parents. I cannot continue to let you off while punishing their children, particularly when you _do_ start the fight.”

“I’ll take on anyone who has a go at Colm,” Finn growled, defiantly.

“I know,” Professor Howe rubbed his head. “But do you think that’s what Colm really wants?”

Finn blinked. “Sir?”

Harriet was only half listening. She was staring at Professor Howe. It was him. Professor Howe was the violinist. He’d never told her. He’d been there the first day she truly entered the magical world. He played for her anytime she was upset. That’s why the Violinist wasn’t there at King’s Cross this year.

“I know your parents made you swear to keep your brother safe,” Professor Howe continued. “And I truly admire your determination. But there are far better ways to do that.”

Finn furrowed his brow. “How...?”

“Be _there_ for him, Finn,” Professor Howe continued. “Don’t just go riding in on a white stallion every time... that’s not what your brother needs. What your brother needs is his brother. Make sure he’s okay... make him laugh...”

“But I’m tougher than them—”

Professor Howe pinched the part of his nose between his eyes, sighing in frustration.

“That’s not the point, Finn. Not even close to the point. Any moron can be strong. You have to be smart. You have to think about what your brother needs. Does he need a hero, or does he need his brother? Does he need a punch in his bully’s eye, or does he need an arm around his shoulder?”

Finn stopped talking, mulling this over.

“Colm will grow up, Finn,” Professor Howe said, his expression softening. “Right now he needs _you_ to be there for him. He needs you to make him smile and laugh. He needs you to encourage him. That will go much farther than showing off how many blows you can take.”

Finn’s head was lowered, clearly ashamed of himself. Professor Howe sighed.

“I... tell you what, Finn. You think on what I’ve told you. Write me an essay, four to five pages, on ways to properly take care of your brother.”

“Yes, sir,” Finn said.

“And tonight... I’ll take you and Colm down into town for dinner.”

Finn’s eyes widened. “Yeah?”

Professor Howe smiled. “Of course. And I’m sure they’ll appreciate it if you brought your guitar.”

Finn was positively glowing now. The scene began to fade. Harriet didn’t want it to stop. She wanted to study the violin more. She wanted to hear Professor Howe play it. She wanted to be sure.

Most of all, she wanted to keep seeing Finn smile. It wasn’t getting to eat somewhere special that made him smile. It was the thought of playing his guitar for others that lit his face.

_“I’d say the boy you want, is the boy who’ll do something for you without wanting anything in return,”_ Sirius’ words washed back over Harriet’s mind.

## * * * *

Harriet didn’t need the scene to rematerialize to recognize the location. The Great Hall stretched out before her. Harriet turned in circles as the Hallowe’en party formed around her. This was definitely a happier memory than the last.

She looked around eagerly for Finn. It also occurred to Harriet she was about to see herself. This was going to be as weird as when she and Hermione used the time-turner. This time she could watch freely, without having to hide.

Harriet couldn’t help her smile as she finally found Finn. He was sitting and talking with three other boys in costume Harriet assumed were his bandmates. The bandmates looked bored, but Finn was watching the crowd avidly.

“Who you lookin’ for?” one asked Finn.

Finn shrugged. “Just lookin’.”

“For what?” another scoffed. “Birds? They’re all cows here at Hogwarts.”

Harriet had a sudden urge to see whether or not she could, in fact, curse a memory.

“Feck off,” Finn snorted. “They’re just different here. I like that…”

“Got a mate who says some of the Yank lassies here aren’t bad,” said another. “Though I guess he says the hottest one’s a todger-dodger like Figg.”

“Jesus fecking Christ, why the hell do I hang out with you all?” Finn glared.

“Ah, come on, Finn,” said the first. “We’re just funning.”

“Besides, we got nothing any Hogwarts girl’s gonna be looking for,” another sighed.

“Whatcha mean?”

“We’re _muggles_ ,” the boy spat. “Hogwarts girls have a reputation for going after wizzies only.”

Finn fell silent, and resumed looking out at the crowd. Suddenly his eyes narrowed, and he gave off a tiny groan, too quiet for anyone but Harriet to hear. Harriet followed his gaze. Her eyes went wide, and her cheeks grew very warm. He was looking at her. Harriet was looking at herself from the outside, standing and talking with Dora, Krystelle, and Hermione.

Finn rose, walking closer. Harriet followed, watching Finn. His eyes were moving over her. Harriet wasn’t sure how to feel about any of this. She was at once flattered, and yet embarrassed and more than a little bashful.

To Harriet’s surprise, she wasn’t the only one who was bashful. Finn got half-way to memory-Harriet and stopped. She blinked, watching. Finn was breathing quickly, twitching his fingers, fidgeting.

Harriet’s jaw dropped in amusement. Finn was afraid to talk to her. As Harriet watched, Finn actually turned around and started to walk away. He was muttering to himself, too quietly for Harriet to hear over the music and crowd.

“You can do it, you can do it,” Harriet finally heard him as he worked himself back up. “Just… talk to Krys… play it cool… play it cool…”

Harriet couldn’t help but giggle. Finn hadn’t come to see Krystelle. He came to see Harriet. He was nervous about it. About talking to her. Not because she was Harriet Potter. He didn’t know who she was. Harriet felt herself begin to glow inside.

Finally, Finn turned back to the group and forced a big smile on his face. He bounded over and shouted “KITTY!” before grabbing up Krystelle and spinning her around.

Harriet laughed at the taken aback look on her own face. She looked so silly. She also couldn’t help but giggle at the fact that the first word she ever heard Finn say was “Kitty!”

Harriet just stood back, content to let the night unfold. She flushed as she heard Finn joke about ‘kidnapping’ her, seeing the twinkle in his eye. Harriet studied Finn’s face closely. That wasn’t a throw-away line. He was gauging her reaction. He was testing her for something.

She followed as she and Finn walked off towards the punch table. It was like watching the experience through entirely new eyes. She was grinning as she saw the delight on Finn’s face as he talked about how excited he was to come to Hogwarts. She flushed just as brightly as her past-self when Finn called her beautiful.

Finally, they began to dance. She giggled watching herself step on Finn’s foot. Finn never even flinched, just smiled softly down at her and kept dancing. Harriet suddenly found herself wishing this wasn’t just a memory. Why on earth did she want to be alone? Being alone was stupid.

Finally, it was time for Finn to perform. Harriet expected this to be the end of this memory, but to her surprise it kept going. She stood by, watching as Finn performed. She was so distracted she almost didn’t notice Fred come and take her past-self’s hand to dance. Harriet looked from them to Finn.

For a fleeting moment, Finn’s face was gormless, utterly devastated. He sighed and forced a smile back on it and continued playing. Harriet’s mood had plummeted. He’d liked her. Even back then. He’d only just met her.

Harriet suddenly found herself wishing the memory would end. And yet it continued. She watched, as the show ended, Finn jot down the little note that Krystelle had given Harriet for him.

“Here,” Finn said miserably. “Give this to Harriet…”

Krystelle took the note, glancing at the words. She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, Finn… that wasn’t her boyfriend…”

“Well, he clearly wants to be,” Finn said, standing and making his way back to the front of the stage.

Krystelle gave Finn a sad look, but went looking for Harriet all the same. She lost Krystelle in the crowd, but found her again as she went to sit with Holly, the pair talking quietly.

Harriet moved closer.

“That’s Harriet Potter?” Holly asked. “Finn worked up the courage to dance with Harriet Potter?”

Krystelle shrugged. “He doesn’t have a clue who she really is. She never told him.”

Holly shook her head. “I don’t blame him. Omigosh she’s adorable.”

“I told her how to write him.”

“You didn’t.”

“Totally did,” Krystelle smirked. “Finn deserves someone nice.”

“You think she will?”

“She better,” Krystelle replied.

Harriet grimaced, remembering the times she’d lapsed. She hated feeling guilty about everything all the time, but this felt appropriate.

The final song ended. Krystelle and Holly met up with Portia, then tracked down Finn as he was helping take down the equipment.

“So, lucky boy,” Holly said, smirking up at him.

Finn rolled his eyes. “Barking up the wrong tree, like always.”

“Oh Finn, stop it,” Krystelle stamped her foot.

Finn winced but otherwise ignored her.

“She’s not seeing that other guy,” Krystelle said. “She told me so herself.”

“Yeah, but like I said, _he_ wants—”

“Finn, who _cares_ what he wants?” Portia said. “We don’t. We care what you want.”

Finn sighed, leaning heavily on the stage. “I don’t know what I want, okay? She’s cute and… she’s…” Finn gave an exasperated noise.

“She said she’s going to write you.”

Finn looked over his shoulder at Krystelle. “Really?”

Krystelle winked, nodding. “Yep. So, buck-up, buster. You’ll be getting letters from the most famous witch in the world.”

Finn turned around completely.

“What you mean?”

Krystelle’s smirk only grew. “I mean that was Harriet Potter. The girl who stopped the most evil dark wizard ever when she was only a baby.”

“You’re kidding…” Finn looked around, trying to spy Harriet in the crowd. “She never said…”

“Funnily enough, I don’t think she likes the attention of being famous,” Krystelle said.

Holly and Portia exchanged grins, before they began chanting.

“Finn and Harriet, sittin’ in a tree, K-I-S-S—”

“Oh, shut up,” Finn said.

Portia rolled her eyes and looped an arm in Finn’s.

“Relax,” she said guiding him towards the punch table that was still open. “Just get you some more punch and tear things down, then I can tell you all about how to talk to girls without looking like a total idiot.”

“Hey, I did okay on my own…” Finn mumbled.

“Yeah, when you weren’t thinking so hard,” Portia teased.

## * * * *

The scene finally dissolved. Harriet knew this was the last memory. She was still trying to process what had happened in that memory. Finn had liked her. He’d really liked her. He thought she was beautiful. He wasn’t just flirting or being cocky.

Why? What about her? It wasn’t because she was famous. And that wouldn’t have kept him putting up with how stupid she was during the rest of the year. Would it?

It was night time in this memory. She was standing outside again. She could hear the sea, and raised voices in the distance. She was standing next to some mouldering ruins. What on earth was she doing here? When was this?

“It’s going to be okay.”

Harriet spun to her right as she located the voice. It was Finn. He and Colm were sitting on the ground, leaned against a wall. Colm was shivering.

“They’re obliviating them,” Colm whispered. “They’re taking all the memories… they’re going to take yours.”

“Like hell they will,” Finn whispered back. “Howe told us to come here if anything bad happened. He’s never been wrong before. They won’t find us here.”

There was a popping noise. Colm gasped, and Finn grabbed up a large stick. Harriet heard footsteps on the ancient stones. Finn started creeping towards the newcomer. Harriet’s heart was pounding. Was it the Aurors? Had Finn’s memories been taken yet?

Harriet shook her head coming to her senses. It couldn’t be the Aurors yet. Sure enough, Finn sighed with relief and lowered the club.

“Why are you still here?! Why aren’t you in the castle?” demanded the voice of Professor Howe.

Harriet moved into the open. Professor Howe was standing there, looking stricken. Finn was looking around the ruins.

“What you mean? We are in the castle.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO LET THEM IN! YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO SAVE THEM IF THEY CAME! I TRUSTED YOU! YOU SWORE TO ME!”

Professor Howe was beside himself, storming around shouting at the ruins. Colm nervously poked his head out.

“Professor Howe?”

Professor Howe walked up to Finn. He conjured an all-too familiar jar, then held Finn’s head in his hands, looking him in the face. The look of fear on Professor Howe’s face, of all people’s, filled Harriet with dread, despite this being mere memory.

“Finn, you have to trust me… I’m going to save you, but you have to trust me.”

“S-save me?” Finn stammered. “Sir, what are you talking about? What’s going on?”

“No time to explain. Colm, watch what I’m doing very carefully. Your brother’s life depends on this.”

Colm was shaking head to toe.

“Colm, you have to be strong. You have to be brave, now. I can’t stop what’s going to happen, but I can save your brother. And so can you. It’s your turn to take care of him. Watch carefully…”

Colm gave a little sob. Harriet stared in horror and disbelief as Professor Howe touched his wand-tip to Finn’s temple and began extracting memories. Finn caught sight of the memories and almost panicked.

 “What the hell is that?!”

“Stay still.”

Harriet glared at Professor Howe. Finn was scared. Of course he was scared. There wasn’t any need to be so rough with him about it.

“I’m taking your memories…” Professor Howe said, a bit more gently.

“Taking my what? What’s happening? What are they doing to everyone?”

“Everything but genocide…”

Harriet could hear voices growing nearer. Her own sense of panic began to grow. Were these really all of Finn’s memories? What if the Aurors got here too fast?

Once more, Professor Howe seemed to be thinking the same thing. He gestured gently to Colm. “Colm… come here.”

Colm was still trembling.

“You see what I’m doing…?”

“Y-yes.”

“Keep this going… this is the only way to save your brother. This is your brother’s life going into this jar, do you understand?”

Harriet’s heard was breaking as she watched Professor Howe hug his arm around Colm’s shoulders and kiss his forehead. “You two are the closest I’ve ever had to sons, I’ve always been here for you… but now this is the best I can do for you. You have to be strong for your brother… you have to find him after this is over and give him back his memories.”

“S-sir?”

Professor Howe handed Colm the jar. Colm nearly dropped it, his hands were shaking so badly.

 “Take them all. Every bit of the memories. Keep it going until they stop. It shouldn’t be long now. When they come, hide that jar. Keep it safe. That’s your brother’s life.”

Professor Howe turned away from the boys, gripping his wand tighter. His power made his wand crackle and spark.

 “I’ll stall them…”

Harriet watched, dumbstruck as Professor Howe began to move away. He looked back at them, pain and sorrow on his face.

“Goodbye…”

“Professor…” Harriet said as he turned and kept walking towards the oncoming Aurors.

He disappeared in the dark. All Harriet could hear was the shouting of searching Aurors, and Finn and Colm’s heavy breathing.

“These… these are really my memories?” Finn finally asked.

“Yes,” Colm whispered, barely able to speak.

Finn looked Colm in the eyes, thinking. At that moment, there was a massive bang and a flash. Spells began rocketing through the air. Professor Howe was facing the Aurors all alone. Harriet knew he was powerful, but by the looks of the spells and the lit wands, almost the entire Auror office was here.

“What are they going to do to me?” Finn asked.

Colm didn’t answer.

“Colm… tell me…”

Colm sniffled. “They’re going to wipe your memories. They’re going to make you forget everything.”

“Everything…?”

Colm nodded. “Even… even me…”

“The fuck I will.”

“Finn,” Colm sobbed. “This is magic… this is stronger than you… this is all that’ll save you!”

Finn calmed himself. He was thinking.

“Colm… I need you to make me a promise…”

“Yes…?”

Finn thought harder. “Colm… my memories are supposed to be wiped, yeah?”

“Y-yeah?”

Colm jumped as more bangs rang out. Professor Howe was putting up a hell of a fight from what Harriet could hear.

“They… they might search you for this… right? You think they’d suspect?”

“Dunno,” Colm sniffed.

“…First chance you get, you give my memories to Harriet,” Finn said.

“Do what?”

Colm was so surprised by this he stopped his sniffling.

“Give my memories to Harriet. Any way you can. She won the freaking Tri-Wizard Tournament, right? Against kids older than me… they won’t find them with her… and if they don’t find them with you, they’ll leave you alone.”

“Finn…”

“Promise me, Colm… for both our safety…”

Colm sniffed again. “You’re really in love with her, aren’t you…”

Finn blushed. “That’s not… that’s not why… but yes… Colm… yes, I am…”

Harriet sank to her knees as the world began to melt.

## * * * *

Harriet fell back on her bed. She lay there, staring at the ceiling. She’d seen Finn’s last conscious moments as himself. Why? How had she picked out those memories in particular? Why couldn’t she have picked memories of Finn just playing his guitar, laughing with friends?

Tears were in Harriet’s eyes. He was in love with her. He wanted her to have him because of it. Harriet began to cry.

“Harriet…?”

It was Ronnie. Harriet heard her curtains pull back. She kept laying on her back, eyes shut, letting the pain out. They had to find him.

Harriet felt Ronnie settle onto the bed next to her. Harriet was surprised to feel someone sit on the other side of her bed. It was Hermione. The girls both held Harriet’s hands, and lay down beside her. Harriet said nothing. She couldn’t.

Hermione and Ronnie didn’t ask any questions. They didn’t ask about the basin and the memories. They just lay close to Harriet, comforting, holding her hands.

_I’m sorry,_ Harriet thought in her mind, imagining herself speaking to Finn. _I’m so sorry…_


	16. Fuzzy Memories

“There are two great regrets: having done, and having not done. The line between them is very fine, indeed.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet didn’t get out of bed until past noon that day, though she woke up well before. She merely laid in bed for an hour or so, staring at the canopy of her four-poster, listening to DIDS snuffling as he explored the dorm, and the heavy rain on the window. She wanted to talk to Finn’s friends; especially his brother Colm.

She felt learning about Finn from second-hand sources might be less accurate, yet safer. She wasn’t eager to repeat her foray into his memories. She knew she couldn’t tell them what she’d done, least of all Colm. How could she?

Finn. Almost all of the memories she’d picked had been unhappy ones. At least to Harriet they were, even if Finn hadn’t likely realized what they meant at the time. How had she managed to pick such significant memories at random? The ones about his parents, in particular.

Then there was Professor Howe. He was the Violinist. Why had he never told her? He was her protector all along. She thought of him as a sort of guardian angel. At the same time, he was Finn’s actual guardian. She remembered something Bathilda Bagshot had said. There were no coincidences in magic, everything was connected.

Professor Howe was in Azkaban. How were they going to get him out? Harriet was suddenly struck with the irony that Professor Howe had stopped helping the Auror Office over Sirius’ false imprisonment, and now he himself had been falsely imprisoned. He hadn’t even been given a trial, either.

Harriet tossed and turned. How was this happening? How was Fudge being so stupid that Lord Voldemort was able to make such convincing claims?

This wasn’t all that unsettled her. She had barely slept, even with her lie-in. Her sleep had been interrupted by nightmares and other strange dreams. She had the strange floating dream again, with the door to the Department of Mysteries. She had another nightmare about the attack as well, though this time instead of Piers, it was Zabini. Even worse, this time no Kinney came to her ‘rescue’, Harriet only just woke up in time. She was gasping and sweating, but fortunately she did not cry out.

Harriet finally couldn’t bring herself to lay around anymore and got out of bed. She dressed comfortably, putting on her special alarm necklace, the bracelet Fred had given her, and the handkerchief that Hermione and Fern had given her.

Harriet’s friends were all waiting for her. Harriet wondered how much Hermione and Ronnie had told them. She hoped not much; she didn’t really want to admit what she’d done.

They had brought her some sandwiches from the Great Hall. In spite of her malaise, Harriet devoured the sandwiches with indecent hunger. Having a full stomach did raise Harriet’s spirits ever so slightly.

The common room was full. Harriet couldn’t focus on anything between her strange night, and the noise. Hermione and Dora were sitting by a window, looking out on the rain-soaked grounds and the Ursula House dormitory. Harriet knew they both wanted to see their friends.

Harriet wanted to see Fern as well. Not just because she wanted to talk about Finn. Fern and Harriet had an understanding of each other that the others just didn’t quite have. Fern had a way of making Harriet laugh, and she still liked adventures. Most of Harriet’s friends were starting to get overly protective of her, and were far more likely to talk her out of snooping and exploring than join in. She loved them, but it was beginning to feel stifling.

Yet, at the moment, her friends had scattered about. Ronnie was by the fire, rekindling her Wizard Chess rivalry with Kelly Werner of Ravenclaw. Kieran and Scott were spectating, Kieran cheering Ronnie, and Scott cheering Kelly. They alternated good-naturedly between cheers and cringes depending on who did well.

Marcus was taking to his prefect duties with surprising vigour. While Hermione was brooding with Dora, Marcus was sitting with the new first years, giving them the low-down on Hogwarts and its secrets. The most interested was Gideon.

“I thought I heard the suits of armour talking,” Gideon asked, wide-eyed with excitement. “Were they talking?”

“They do talk,” Marcus chuckled. “And they sing at Christmas, although they usually forget the words to the songs...”

“Whoa...” the first years chorused.

Harriet furrowed her brow. Gideon had an American accent. She kept pondering the little black-haired first year. What had he been doing in Little Whinging? Harriet had never heard the name Hithersbee before, but it sounded like a name a Pure-blood family would have.

Had they recently moved to Britain? If so, why would they move to such a Muggle area? Harriet reminded herself that American wizards weren’t quite so pure-blood happy as witches and wizards here in Britain, and didn’t look down on Muggles nearly as much.

Harriet looked around as the portrait hole opened. Nan, Rosie, and Emma all climbed through one after the other. They were wearing heavy, hooded raincoats and wellies. The twins grinned at the sight of Harriet and hurried over.

“Hey you,” Harriet said.

“Hey,” Rosie grinned, looking rather smug.

“What were you three up to?” Harriet asked, both interested, and suspicious.

“Sleuthing,” the little trio said in unison.

Harriet raised an eyebrow.

“I wanted to see my friend, Niamh,” Rosie went on. “And something’s weird about that Ursula House.”

“Yeah,” Nan agreed. “They didn’t come to breakfast or lunch.”

Harriet’s eyebrow rose even further.

“Right?” Rosie said. “We went up to the house, but it’s not sealed with a password or anything.”

“It’s guarded by _Aurors_ ,” Emma said, her face glowing with intrigue.

Harriet blinked. That was troubling, indeed.

“They wouldn’t let us in. They wouldn’t even take in a message,” Rosie said, exasperated. “The students also seem to like that Umbridge lady...”

“But I know her from the Ministry,” Emma chimed in. “Father doesn’t like her. Says she has too much influence with the Minister. He says she’s the reason the Minister leans so heavily pro-Pure-blood. And those Rathlin kids shouldn’t like the Ministry at all.”

Harriet smiled, impressed. “Good thinking,” she agreed. “I noticed that, too.”

The trio beamed with pride.

“So, what else did you find out?”

“Nothing yet,” Rosie replied. “We only just got back.”

“Yeah, sleuthing in the rain isn’t much fun,” Nan admitted. “And we thought if we poked around too much we might get in too much trouble with the Aurors.”

Harriet laughed. Seeing the twins having fun with Emma went a long way to cheering her up.

“No, I suppose it isn’t,” Harriet admitted. She leaned in close to the twins. “You two remembering...?” She trailed off, glancing at the fronts of their shirts.

The twins nodded seriously, showing her the chains of the necklaces.

“Good,” Harriet smiled. “I don’t think anything dangerous could happen, but be safe, okay?”

“Okay,” the twins chimed.

The little trio took off their rain gear and hurried up to the third-year girls’ dorm. Harriet felt a little lonely again as she watched them go. She kept studying the common room.

She caught sight of Parvati, Lavender, and AJ sitting with Dean and Seamus. Harriet watched them out of the corner of her eye. They were all whispering together. She couldn’t see them clearly, because of her glasses, but she was sure they were stealing glances at her.

Harriet’s hands clenched. So, Dean and Seamus were in on their stupid paranoia, too? Harriet forced herself to ignore them. She closed her eyes, practicing her breathing exercises.

“You okay?”

Harriet jumped and looked around. It was Neville.

“Oh, hey Neville,” Harriet said. “Okay, I guess.”

Neville sat, putting a book on the table. Harriet studied it.

“The Quran?”

Neville blushed, shrugging. “Just... been wanting to know more...”

Harriet smiled. “That’s okay, Neville. Basheera’s wonderful.”

Neville’s blush grew, but he smiled. “She supports me... She helps me believe in myself... No one’s ever done that before... not the same way.”

Harriet kept smiling. “I’m glad, Neville. You deserve that.”

“Thanks, Harriet,” Neville replied. “You do, too... especially with all you’ve been through, and are going through...”

Harriet’s smile faltered.

“Sorry,” Neville muttered. “Didn’t want to make you think of bad things...”

“No, it’s okay, Neville,” Harriet admitted. “Getting me to not think about bad things is like...” Harriet’s eyes drifted back to the window. “Going outside right now and not getting wet.”

Neville laughed softly. “Fair enough... I know that feeling...”

Harriet tilted her head.

Neville sighed. “Well, if anyone has a right to know, I guess it’s you... my... my parents are...”

Harriet’s stomach churned. She remembered.

“I’m not technically an orphan... like you are—were,” Neville corrected. “My parents are in St Mungo’s... They were...”

Harriet put a hand on Neville’s arm. “I... I know... Neville...” Harriet admitted awkwardly, keeping her voice low.

Neville grimaced. “Oh... did... did your father tell you...?”

“No,” Harriet said, confused. “Why?”

“Your godfather, Sirius Black... he’s staying in the same ward as my parents. I’ve seen your new dad and old Professor Lupin visiting him.”

“Ohhhh.”

“Yeah,” Neville said. “I... I like your new dad. I think seeing my parents like that is... it’s maybe harder for him than it is for me, somehow. He really knew them. I never did... The first day I met him there, he got me some tea and talked to me about my parents. Things I’d never known.”

“Like what?” Harriet asked.

“Like they were in some secret group called the Order of the Phoenix. They were heroes. Gran always said they were, but never any details. You know they were almost killed three times by You-Know-Who, himself? But they escaped... every time...”

Harriet kept her hand on Neville’s arm. He smiled softly. “So... needless to say, Harriet... you ever need someone to talk to this year... I’ll be around, okay? Me, Basheera... we believe you, and in you. We believe You-Know-Who’s back. We know you’d never let that Solomon Kinney get to you. I mean... how could he? You were the only one who could throw off the Imperius Curse.”

“That’s... true,” Harriet admitted. “Thanks Neville, really.”

“Don’t mention it,” Neville smiled. “It’s going to be a rough year... we need all the help we can get.”

###  *** * * ***

Ursula House didn’t turn up at dinner that night. The school was full of gossiping and glancing at the empty new table. Counsellor Umbridge wasn’t sitting at the staff table, either.

Harriet felt guilty to admit that she was glad there was something else people were gossiping about than her, for a change. She did feel worried. Something was definitely wrong.

“Wonder how they’re going to handle class scheduling?” Scott pondered, looking at the vacant table.

“How you mean?” Ronnie asked, through a mouthful of lamb chop.

“Will they be taking their classes individually, or with us?”

“Oh, good question,” Ronnie thought.

“Don’t worry about it,” Rachel said, noticing the way Harriet and her friends were eyeing the Ursula House table. “The Ursula students never have meals with us on Saturdays.”

“No?” Hermione asked.

Tori shook her head. “No, they never leave their dorm on Saturdays. The few we’ve spoken to said those are ‘remembrance’ days. They meet with Counsellor Umbridge and she helps them ‘deal with their traumas’.”

Kieran narrowed his eyes. “How does she do that?”

Tori and Rachel shrugged.

“I don’t trust her farther’n’I’could’throw’er,” Jackson drawled. “She’s faker’n’shit.”

Kieran was looking troubled. Harriet took that as a bad sign. Kieran’s biggest passion was healing. If he was suspicious of Umbridge’s healing methods, something had to be up.

They were just leaving the Great Hall when someone said Harriet’s name. Harriet looked around and saw Kenley Tyler walking towards her. She had a little envelope in her hand.

The rest of the group stopped with Harriet, except for Hermione, who kept walking, her head down. She and Kenley did not get on. Their awkward relationship went back to the year of the Chamber of Secrets. Kenley was a Muggle-born in Slytherin House, and fearing for her safety, offered to help Harriet and her friends find the Heir of Slytherin.

Kenley collected a hair from one of her roommates for their Polyjuice Potion, but accidentally took a cat hair. As a result, Hermione spent several weeks in the hospital as half a cat. Hermione accused Kenley of doing it on purpose, conspiring with the Heir. This was put to pain when Kenley herself was attacked and petrified.

“Hi, Kenley,” Harriet smiled, not being on such awkward terms with the older American girl.

“Hey,” Kenley said, holding out the envelope. “Professor Snape asked me to give you this. Said it’s important, and you’ll know what it is.”

Harriet’s chest clenched. This could only mean one thing: it was time to resume their Occlumency lessons.

“Thanks,” Harriet said, taking it. “I do.”

Kenley smiled and returned to the Slytherin table.

“Wonder why he didn’t give the note to me?” Dora pondered.

“Who knows,” Ronnie rolled her eyes. “It’s Snape.”

“He really isn’t _that_ bad,” Dora said.

“Not to you,” Ronnie retorted.

“Well it’s not like any other students are nice to him in return.”

Harriet wasn’t listening. She was reading Professor Snape’s note. She grudgingly appreciated how neat, and even pretty, Professor Snape’s writing was.

 

_We will resume our lessons tomorrow night. Seven-o-clock in my office. Burn this._

 

“What he say?” Ronnie asked.

“Not here,” Harriet replied.

She started off after Hermione, the rest in tow. Once they were up the steps and out of sight of the Great Hall, Harriet held out the note to Marcus.

“Would you mind?” she asked.

“With pleasure,” Marcus grinned, taking the note and tapping it with his wand. It burst into flames at once, the ashes floating to the floor.

“ _Scourgify_ ,” Scott said, vanishing the ashes.

“What’s up?” Kieran asked.

“I start my lessons again,” Harriet said. “Tomorrow night.”

Ronnie grimaced. “You really aren’t having the best start to your year, are you?”

“No,” Harriet admitted darkly. “I’m not...”

### * * * *

Harriet somehow felt even more tired the next morning than she had the previous day. She’d had another night of strange dreams, but at least no nightmares. She brooded, her mind full of images of Cornelius Fudge, and similar pamphlets. They ended in another dream about the corridor to the Department of Mysteries.

The Ursula House students finally turned up for breakfast. Harriet did her best to not act too concerned around Fern. To Harriet’s surprise, despite all the dark gossip, Fern seemed her usual self. She talked and laughed easily as ever.

“It’s really not that bad,” Fern explained, waiving a dismissive hand. “It’s super nice, actually. All brand new. Dolores is amazing.”

“That’s good,” Hermione said, doing her best to sound pleased.

Down the Gryffindor Table, Harriet could see students craning their necks to keep Fern in view. Mostly boys, but she did notice Parvati and Lavender looking on slightly envious. Harriet glared at them and they looked away.

“Those the dimwits who moved out?” Fern asked, noticing.

“That’s them,” Harriet confirmed.

Fern shook her head. “Shits...”

Fern’s presence was starting to cheer Harriet throughout the day. It felt just like the summer all over again.

Unfortunately, Hermione wasn’t about to let Fern out of her sight, and so Harriet had no chance to ask her any of her building questions about Finn. Exacerbating her frustrations on this score was the fact that Fern apparently had not yet made peace with her old friends. Harriet felt conflicted here. She wanted to talk to them, but she didn’t want to upset Fern, either.

By that evening, Harriet was finally starting to have fun. Dora and Ronnie were down in Slytherin House. Dora wanted to show Krystelle and her friends around Hogwarts, properly. Harriet vaguely wished she’d gone along. She could have perhaps pulled one aside to ask them some questions.

Harriet was also a little worried. As she was still not on speaking terms with her old friends, Harriet feared Dora and Ronnie hanging out with them would make things awkward. However, Fern said she didn’t mind.

“They’re not my friends anymore,” Fern explained. “Not going to stop anyone else from being their friends, though.”

Fern showed plenty of outrage on Harriet’s behalf over people thinking she was either a monster or a criminal, which went a long way to cheering Harriet up. She also told them all about their orientation weeks. By the sound of it, their worries were misplaced. The way Fern told it, they had all had a blast.

They had spent the first week touring the school, the grounds, and Hogsmeade. The second week they spent doing team-building and trust exercises. They had sessions with Counsellor Umbridge every few days.

“She works really hard,” Fern explained. “She sees at least fifty of us a day. It’s never anything too advanced. She just asks us how we’re doing, lets us get what’s bothering us off our chests, gives us nice hot cups of tea.”

“I see...” Kieran said, trying not to sound as sceptical as he clearly was.

“It did take some time to warm to her,” Fern explained. “Naturally, none of us were all that eager to trust someone from the Ministry, but she really cares. It’s like she knows all of our friends who were Obliviated as well as we do, even though she wasn’t there. She’s really done her homework.”

Fern’s face finally fell.

“It’s so weird, remembering... or trying to. She says we’ve blocked out a lot of the worst of that night. I still can’t believe it happened... and those Aurors... just going rogue like that... And Professor Howe and Watkins attacking them...”

“Has she said anything about Professor Howe and Doctor Watkins?” Harriet asked. “About... them maybe having a trial?”

Fern shook her head. “Not really... we... so much of that night’s just a blur...”

Harriet and her friends exchanged looks. As normal as Fern was acting, this, to all of them, said something was very wrong. Harriet wanted to say something, but Kieran caught her eye and shook his head. He was studying Fern closely. He had a look in his eye similar to the ones Scott and Hermione had whenever they were faced with a mystery to solve.

Harriet was distracted by the twins and Emma. They had met up with Rosie’s friend, and Kieran’s cousin, Niamh, by the looks of it. They were sitting in a corner, Emma and Nan working feverishly on a piece of parchment with coloured pencils. Harriet wondered what they were up to. It was then she realized they weren’t alone. There was a fifth person with them; so little she hadn’t noticed him at first. It was the little first-year boy, Gideon.

He was looking on as Emma and Nan drew and coloured. He kept pointing to places on the paper, smiling with delight. Rosie and Niamh were looking back and forth between the paper and Gideon with bemused faces.

Harriet returned her attention to Fern, who had dived back into her descriptions of life in Ursula House. Now she was talking about ‘remembrance days’. According to Fern, they all came together as a house and talked about their friends they missed. Counsellor Umbridge had hordes of pizzas made by the house-elves (Hermione sniffed in disapproval at this, and crates of butterbeer delivered from the Three Broomsticks.

“Dang,” said Dean Thomas who’d been eavesdropping. “Maybe we can dupe Percy into that?”

Harriet gave Dean a dirty look. He looked awkward, but Fern looked around and smiled at him.

“Oh, hello. I don’t remember speaking to you.”

“Sorry, I guess we haven’t been introduced,” Dean said. “I’m Dean—”

“Oh, I know,” Fern said. “I was just pointing out that we weren’t talking to you.”

Dean’s face went gormless at once.

“See, Harriet here is my friend, and I have a thing about not talking to people who gossip about my friends,” Fern went on. “So, if you could kindly slink back over to your bitchy little friends? That would be _fantastic_.”

Dean looked crushed. Harriet and her friends were all staring, mouths hanging open.

“Wow,” Marcus muttered as Dean shuffled back to Parvati, Lavender, AJ, and Seamus.

Kieran grimaced. “Dean isn’t really... he doesn’t...”

“He does enough,” Fern said, tossing her hair. “Besides, he’s been eye-humping me all day. Kind of done with it.”

Harriet looked past Fern at the other little group of fifth years. All of them looked scandalized, and began gossiping even more angrily. On the one hand, Harriet didn’t think it solved the problem. On the other, seeing anyone who had been talking about her being an Obscurial in a serious way getting a verbal slap in the face made her feel better.

She was used to verbal sparring with the Slytherins. They were easy. The thought of people she had considered friends turning on her like that was something else.

There was a little tap on Harriet’s shoulder. She turned and to her surprise, found herself face to face with little Gideon Hithersbee. Even if Harriet was now the shortest in her dorm, she did vaguely appreciate the fact she was at least taller than most of the first years.

“H-hi,” Gideon stammered.

“Hello,” Harriet replied, too taken aback at Gideon’s sudden appearance to know what else to say.

“Here!” Gideon practically shouted.

He brusquely thrust a folded-up piece of parchment into Harriet’s hands, then turned and ran from the common room.

He went up the girls’ staircase by mistake. At once there was a wailing sound and the stairs collapsed into a smooth slide. The poor boy went sliding down onto the floor on his stomach, blinking in shock.

The common room burst out with laughter. Gideon looked mortified, on the verge of tears. He got up and ran up the proper staircase at top speed.

Harriet felt heartbroken on Gideon’s behalf. She also felt anger at the laughing crowd. No, anger was understating.

“Stop laughing!” Harriet shouted at them all. “It’s _not_ funny!”

The common room went deathly silent. Harriet was standing, though she didn’t remember getting up. Harriet looked around at all the stunned faces. In one horrible moment, the extent of people who thought she might be dangerous swept over her.

This only made Harriet all the angrier. She sat, opening the note that Gideon had given her.

It was a drawing of some little figures. Clearly, it was what Nan and Emma had been working on for him. It was a drawing of a scared little boy, a very accurate depiction of Gideon, surrounded by five monstrous boys, towering over him, their mouths full of fangs, and their hands were claws.

To the right stood an even taller figure. It was Harriet, standing tall, wearing armour like the kind Aello had worn, brandishing her wand at the boys. Above the scene was _THANK YOU_ written in beautiful, intricate script.

Harriet’s heart felt like it shattered into little pieces. She turned it over and saw a little note written in shaky handwriting.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_Sorry I ran away. I was so scared. I just paniced. You were so brave and awesome. Braver than my dad, even!_

_Thanks again,_

_Gideon_

_(P.S. I tried to say this in person but I was too scared. Being a Gryffindor is hard.)_

 

“Awwwwwwwwwwwwww!” Hermione cooed, having read over Harriet’s shoulder. “My goodness, that is so sweet!”

“Looks like you’ve got an admirer,” Scott teased.

“Oh, shut up,” Harriet snapped, though her blush was far more from feeling touched than being annoyed.

“That is a sweet gesture, though,” Marcus smiled. “Gid’s a good kid.”

“Gid?” Hermione asked. “Have a nickname for him already?”

Marcus shrugged. “It’s what he told me yesterday. His Dad calls him Gid.”

“Where’s he from?” Harriet asked. “Did he say?”

Marcus shook his head. “Nope. Just he’s from the States. Said he’s moved around a lot.”

“I wonder if his dad’s part of the ICW mission with Captain Kane?” Scott pondered.

“Oh, that very well could be,” Hermione agreed.

“Say, Harriet,” Marcus said, checking his watch. “It’s almost time for your lesson.”

Harriet gasped. “You’re right! If you all see Gideon again, tell him I said thank you and he’s welcome!”

She hurried through the portrait hole. She checked her own watch. She had plenty of time, yet given it was Professor Snape, she felt it would be best to arrive a little early. She arrived with five minutes to spare. She took a minute to compose herself and catch her breath before she knocked.

“Enter,” Professor Snape called.

Harriet turned the handle and stepped inside. She stopped at once, shocked at what she saw. Professor Snape was not alone. Sitting in a chair across the desk from Professor Snape was Draco Malfoy.

“Close the door, Potter,” Professor Snape said. “I believe you know Draco. He shall be joining us for these lessons.”

### * * * *

Just after ten-o-clock, Harriet and Draco left Professor Snape’s office. They were both exhausted. Harriet could barely hold onto her after-curfew pass from Professor Snape.

There was a secret advantage to having Draco there. Professor Snape couldn’t comment on any of Harriet’s memories. Instead, he stoically went about attacking Harriet and Draco’s minds. Harriet was both impressed, and annoyed, at how well Draco seemed to manage. She envied the way he could close his eyes, take a deep breath, and just let his face go blank.

Every time Harriet tried her mind was visited by memories of her strange dreams, and everything else that had been eating away at her. Fortunately, Professor Snape didn’t go far enough to find any of her more ‘intimate’ memories, yet.

“Didn’t... think...” Draco stammered. “Be that hard...”

“It’s miserable...” Harriet said. “Only done it once before... hasn’t gotten any easier.”

“Feel like I’ve run a marathon on my head...”

Harriet laughed despite herself. The pair moved a few paces down the corridor.

“So... I don’t tell anyone about this, and you don’t, right?” Draco said.

“That’s the deal,” Harriet replied. She stole a sideways glance at Draco. “Is... is this about your...?”

Draco froze. His hands were clenched.

“Don’t talk about that,” Draco said darkly. “Never mention that. Or any of this. You hear me?”

Harriet was taken aback. Draco looked both terrified, and furious.

“I’m sorry,” Harriet said. “I didn’t mean—”

Draco stormed off. Harriet stared after him, dumbstruck. Draco disappeared as he headed off for the Slytherin dormitories.

She’d tried to be supportive. What was he so on edge about? Harriet shook her head before she resumed heading off to Gryffindor Tower, her mind swirling. What on Earth was going on? Nothing about this year was right.

Many of her favourite teachers were gone. Including Hagrid, who was also one of her favourite people of all time. She was taking Occlumency lessons with Draco Malfoy, someone she’d once considered a sworn enemy. There was a new house at Hogwarts made up of students who thought the sun shone out of Dolores Umbridge’s every orifice, including one of her new favourite people. What else was going to go wrong? Or at best, strange?

Harriet could barely lift her legs climbing back through the portrait hole. She understood what Draco had meant about a marathon. The common room was mostly empty, except for Hermione, Kieran, Marcus, Ronnie, and Nan. Nan rose, worry all over her face.

“You’re okay!” Nan said, hurrying over and hugging Harriet. “Did you... you know, like last time?”

Harriet shook her head. “No, just draining...”

Hermione came over as well, putting a kindly arm around Harriet’s shoulder, handing Harriet the drawing Gideon had given her.

“Well, let’s get you to bed,” Hermione suggested. “Get plenty of rest before classes resume tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Harriet said, her voice thick with reluctance. She was worried she’d have more strange dreams and nightmares.

“Looking as tired as you are, I’m sure you’ll sleep wonderfully,” Hermione continued, guiding Harriet up the stairs.

Nan was following, looking anxious.

 “I’m okay, Nan,” Harriet said, giving Nan her best attempt at a bolstering smile. “I have to do this, even if it...”

“Sucks?” Nan suggested.

Harriet laughed. “Yeah, sucks...”

“I think you just have to find a proper context to help you focus,” Hermione said. “I’ve been reading up on Occlumency. We can all help you work on it. It’s not too dissimilar from throwing off the Imperius Curse, and you’re already tops at that! Better than me, even.”

“Thanks,” Harriet said, smiling feebly. She knew it took a lot for Hermione to admit that.

Why was she so tired? She hadn’t felt this tired the last time, merely upset. Harriet slowly changed into her pyjamas.

“Are you all right?” Basheera asked solicitously, Rachel and Tori looking on with concern.

“Yeah,” Harriet replied simply.

Hermione started getting ready for bed as well. Ronnie came up a minute later. Harriet was snuggled under her covers, her curtains closed already. Harriet’s bed felt more comfortable than she’d ever remembered it. The chill, rainy weather helped make her feel safe and warm.

She picked up Finn, studying his jar. What other memories did he have? He had to have at least some happy ones buried away in here. More memories of her, maybe?

Harriet didn’t want to dive into them with the Pensieve again in a hurry, but her curiosity remained piqued. She listened to the sounds of quiet talking amongst the other girls. Slowly, Harriet unscrewed the lid of the jar.

“Hi, Finn,” Harriet whispered into the swirling memories. “It’s me, Harriet... I’m... really sorry about the other night... I shouldn’t have done that, but... I wanted to know more...”

Harriet almost dropped the jar again in surprise. Something moved inside the jar. She stared, holding the jar as steady as she could. As she watched, Harriet’s own face emerged from the memories. Harriet’s eyes were wide. It was her right before the final task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. Harriet watched as she jumped up, kissing someone who wasn’t there. Kissing Finn.

Harriet watched as her face disappeared into the jar again.

“...Harriet...?”

Again, the memories stirred. Her face drifted up again, but it was different this time. This time she recognized herself from the Gala. It was from just before Finn finally told her the truth about his family. She looked so angry.

Harriet blushed, but smiled. She gently put the lid back on the jar and hugged it close. She smiled softly, closing her eyes, and drifting off to sleep before the lights in the dorm were finally turned off.


	17. The Librarian and the Captain

“The least expected things are always the most dangerous.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet did not wake until Ronnie gently shook her shoulder the following morning.

“Morning sunshine,” Ronnie teased. “You’re going to miss breakfast.”

Harriet grunted. She couldn’t remember having any dreams, but her forehead was tingling. She swung herself out of bed slowly.

Everyone else was already getting dressed. Harriet managed to coax herself to her feet and picked up her new uniform from her trunk. She was just pulling on her shirt when Hermione hurried over picking up her jumper.

“Yes!” Hermione said with delight, holding the front of the jumper in front of Harriet’s face.

Harriet blinked, quite taken aback by Hermione’s behaviour, when she noticed what Hermione was attempting to show her.

_Harriet Lily Potter-Dusk_

_Fifth Year_

 

“They remembered!” Hermione grinned, bouncing up and down excitedly.

Harriet beamed. She took the jumper, studying the new name closely. She looked outside. The rain had not yet abated; it would be perfect weather for wearing a jumper.

Harriet finished buttoning her shirt, did up her tie, and put on her jumper. It was as comfy and warm as ever. Harriet noted the other girls were opting for tights due to the chilly weather.

Harriet debated but finally opted for her school socks. Next, she put on her handkerchief, taking care to tuck it under her shirt collar. She gave a tiny wink to the jar on her bedside table, though immediately felt a little foolish. Was she trying to flirt with a jar?

Finally dressed, Harriet hooked her arms in Ronnie and Hermione’s, and the three went down together.

“We just have to focus on our classes,” Hermione said bolstering. “The Order is out there dealing with You-Know-Who and the Ministry. This is all we have to worry about.”

“Exactly,” Ronnie agreed. “Just take our classes, keep our heads down, and this’ll all blow over.”

Harriet smiled, but somehow she did not share their enthusiasm. Nothing in her life had ever been that easy. Not even her very first year at Hogwarts.

They entered the common room. Kieran and Marcus were already waiting.

“Morning, ladies,” Marcus smiled. “Ready for a grand adventure in our Ministry run-amok hell-scape of a school?”

Kieran snorted. “That wasn’t bleak at all.”

Marcus sniggered. “Just trying to smile my way through the pain.”

“What’s that on the notice board?” Hermione asked.

They moved closer. Most of the board was covered with a large poster that read:

 

_GALLONS OF GALLEONS!_

_Pocket money failing to keep pace with your outgoings? Like to earn a little extra gold?_

_Contact Fred and George Weasley, Gryffindor common room, for simple, part-time, virtually painless jobs._

_(We regret that all work is taken at applicant’s own risk.)_

 

“Those two!” Hermione declared, taking down the sign, revealing another for the first Hogsmeade weekend, coming in October.

“What?” Ronnie asked.

“They are the limit,” Hermione said.

“Well, there’s... nothing technically wrong with this,” Marcus said, taking the sign and reading it.

“That we know of,” Hermione said. “This is Fred and George we’re talking about.”

Marcus grimaced. “Mione... I mean... yes, they’re likely up to no good, but we can’t just assume...”

“’At applicant’s own risk’...?” Hermione raised an eyebrow.

“...Okay, fair point,” Marcus conceded. “We’ll talk to them about it... just get an _idea_ of what they’re up to?”

“You’ll have a hard time,” Ronnie observed, pointing at the sign. “I doubt this is the only one they’ve put up...”

Harriet and Kieran exchanged a look. Clearly, they weren’t as bothered about the issue.

“Are you two going to try bossing around my sweet, innocent boyfriend while he tries to better himself in industry?” Erica asked, her eyes twinkling as she walked over.

“So this _is_ to do with Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes?” Hermione asked.

Erica rolled her eyes. “Well yes, they’re just looking for testers for their Skiving Snackboxes.”

“Testers!?” Hermione gasped.

“What’s that you got?” Harriet asked, looking at the smaller poster Erica was holding.

Erica grinned, stepping past Harriet and tacking it up next to the Hogsmeade Weekend sign.

 

_CHEER ON YOUR HOUSE!_

_Ever wanted to be a flyer without a broomstick?_

_Have eyes and reflexes good enough to be a spotter?_

_Strong enough to support your teammates as a base?_

_Try out for Gryffindor House’s official cheerleading squad!_

_See Erica Quoy to sign-up!_

“Oh cool,” Ronnie said. “McGonagall agreed, eh?”

“Yeah,” Erica replied. “She agreed on the grounds we were _proper_ cheerleaders, and not just titillating the boys.”

Harriet giggled, and Erica rolled her eyes.

“’A flyer without a broomstick’?” Kieran asked, politely puzzled.

Erica smiled. “It’s a cheer position. There’s three, usually. Flyers are the ones who get held up or thrown up in the air as part of stunts.”

Erica trailed off, looking around at the five faces. “You all have no idea what I’m talking about, do you?”

“Yeah, that’s not a thing over here,” Ronnie admitted.

“Not even in the Muggle world here,” Hermione said.

“Yeah, I kinda figured it’d be mostly us,” Erica said, meaning the refugees. “But it’s my last year. I want to add something, and I figured maybe us cheering on the Quidditch teams, and such would help us fully fit in, you know?”

Erica sighed. “It’s weird... we’ve been here for so long, but most of us still feel like we’re outsiders. We’re always going to be ‘the refugees’ or ‘the Americans’. Honestly, most of us don’t want to go back to the States. There’s nothing for us there, not even families. Hogwarts is our home, now...”

“Of course it is,” Hermione smiled.

Harriet was studying the poster Erica had put up. It would be weird having people cheering for her out on the Quidditch pitch, yet there was a rather exciting feeling to it. It put her in mind of the World Cup final.

Then another thought occurred to Harriet. Titillating the boys? All Harriet had ever really seen of cheerleading was her little squad during the Tri-Wizard Tournament. George had evidently been quite taken with Erica in her makeshift uniform. Harriet vaguely wondered whether or not Finn would like such an outfit.

They headed down to the Great Hall. Harriet was starving. Her appetite had grown considerably over the year. During her brief time in Mountain Home, Harriet often found herself snacking, just for something to do or to raise her spirits.

As they entered the Great Hall, Ronnie broke off to join Dora and her friend Krystelle. She saw Scott already sitting with Colm. They were holding hands, their foreheads resting together, murmuring. Harriet felt her heart being torn open as she watched.

She forced herself to look away. They were almost to the Gryffindor table when Harriet was stopped by a tall, black girl with braided hair.

“Hi, Angelina,” Harriet said.

“Hi,” Angelina replied. “Listen, I’ve been made Gryffindor Quidditch Captain.”

“Congratulations,” Harriet beamed.

She’d suspected Angelina would take Wood’s place. She also hoped that Angelina would be a bit less pompous than Wood.

“Thanks. Well now that Wood’s gone, we need a new Keeper. Tryouts are at five-o-clock on Friday. I want everyone there so we can see how well the new person’ll fit in.”

“Deal,” Harriet grinned.

Angelina returned the grin and headed off after Katie Bell and Alicia Spinnet.

“I’d forgotten Wood had left,” Hermione said. “I suppose that’ll make quite a difference to the team?”

Harriet shrugged. “I s’pose. He was a great Keeper. He’s reserve Keeper for Puddlemere United, now.”

“Well, it can’t hurt to have some new blood, can it?” Kieran asked as he ladled himself some porridge.

Harriet gave him a sideways glance. He was trying a little too hard to not look at anyone. She was distracted from this when Kieran looked up and smiled.

“Hey, Fern,” Kieran said, as Fern joined them.

“Hello all,” Fern said, sitting next to Hermione.

“I’ve meant to ask, is Ursula House going to have a Quidditch team?” Kieran asked her.

“We will,” Fern said. “I don’t know how good we’ll be. We’ll probably own the football pitch, though. Professor Howe scaled back magic-only sports when he took over.”

“Well, that’s still an extra match,” Kieran reasoned.

Hermione furrowed her brow. “That’s four extra matches, you mean?”

“Oh, right,” Kieran said, becoming very interested in his porridge again.

“We’ll give you a run for your money this year; I bet,” Marcus said. “I think I’m throwing together a good team. Ronnie’s an amazing keeper, and I have enough Muggleborns now who have at least a grasp of the concept.”

“You do?” Harriet asked. “But classes just started.”

Marcus shrugged. “Been corresponding all summer with my team. Giving them pointers.”

There was the sound of hands slapping down on the table. Everyone jumped and looked around to see Mayu standing up, looking towards them with shock and excitement on her face.

“You have football here?” she asked.

“Uh, yes?” Marcus said, taken aback.

“Where do I join?” Mayu gasped, her eyes wide as saucers with excitement.

“Uh, well... we’ll have try-outs,” Marcus said. “I haven’t decided on a date, yet...”

“You play football?” Ryan Yukisaki asked, staring at Mayu.

“Hai,” Mayu grinned.

Ryan’s eye twitched, and he went red as the Gryffindor banners.

Marcus looked around the Great Hall. “Say, something that occurred to me, Fern... where’s the Ursula House hourglass? For house points?”

“Counsellor Umbridge said it’s coming. Teachers will just have to write down and tally up the points later.”

“That doesn’t sound tedious at all,” Marcus scoffed.

“It’s not as though magical hourglasses that add and subtract hordes of gemstones based on how much all the teachers in this school give them out or take them away just grown on trees,” Hermione teased.

Marcus rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, fair enough.”

All eyes rose to the ceiling as the morning’s post arrived. Everyone covered their heads as a shower of water droplets rained down on them as the rain-soaked owls flew into the Great Hall. Harriet, out of habit, wasn’t expecting anything. However, just as an owl landed in front of Hermione with a sodden _Daily Prophet_ , another landed in front of Harriet with a postcard in its beak.

“Hello,” Harriet said, taking the postcard.

“Ooooh,” Kieran grinned. “Bet I know who that’s from.”

Sure enough, when Harriet turned the card over, she recognised Daddy’s handwriting at once. She also noticed that two more owls landed in front of the twins, also bearing postcards. The front of the postcard showed the Eiffel Tower.

 

_Dear Harricane,_

_Greetings from France! We’re back here on the first leg of our trip. Mr and Mrs Flamel are providing their cars so we can sight-see while staying with them. We’re staying in one of the little houses rather than in their big house. It’s more intimate and feels more like a vacation._

_We just want you to know how proud of you we both are. We just want you to focus on school this year. Despite all the terrible things going on outside Hogwarts, you’re safe there, you have Nan and Rosie, and you have your friends. We miss you so much already._

_Remember all we told you before parting._

_We love you so much,_

_Daddy and Mum_

 

Hermione had moved over to read, and gave off a tiny squeal of joy. Harriet rolled her eyes but was still grinning her widest. Nan and Rosie were both waving their postcards over at Harriet, both beaming with delight. Harriet waved back to them.

She was distracted then by Percy moving along the table, handing out timetables.

“Ooo,” Hermione said. “History of Magic with the librarian, first.”

“Double Potions,” Harriet grumbled. “Then Divination for me...”

“Double Defence Against the Dark Arts, though,” Kieran said cheerfully. “We get to see what Captain Kane’s made of, eh?”

Harriet’s smile was forced. She had already seen a bit of what Captain Kane was capable of. She looked away, trying to force the horrific sounds of Mundungus Fletcher’s reanimated corpse out of her mind.

“You’ll all be singing a different tune before long,” said Fred as he, George, and Erica walked over.

“Why’s that?” Hermione asked.

“O.W.L.s, of course,” George scoffed. “You’re going to be begging for one of our Skiving Snackboxes before long.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. “And why would O.W.L.s make me want a Skiving Snackbox?”

Erica grimaced. “Your exams. Seriously, I couldn’t even let being kidnapped get in the way of studying.”

“But it was just Sirius… And he helped you study!” Harriet scoffed.

Erica giggled a little. “Well, true...”

“Hey, some good came out of that,” George smiled though his ears went a little pink in the Weasley way.

Erica giggled again hugging his arm. “Very true, my hero.”

George rolled his eyes, and the trio moved on to sit with the rest of Harriet’s Quidditch team.

“You think they mean it?” Fern asked. “Hell of a year to throw us into Hogwarts.”

“She wasn’t wrong about the kidnapping bit,” Harriet said.

Kieran chuckled. “Hey, not all of you are fifth-years.”

“Oh yeah? Well okay then, hell of a year to throw _me_ into Hogwarts. That better?”

Harriet gave Fern a sideways glance. She’d sounded a little like she had when telling off Dean, but her eyes were twinkling brightly, and there was more than a hint of mischief on her lips.

Kieran apparently wasn’t offended. His eyes were twinkling back.

“Oh yeah, all about you, eh?” he chuckled.

“I find it gets me by,” Fern smirked. “You’ve done your share of noticing me.”

“Fern!” Hermione half-gasped, half-laughed.

Kieran had gone as red as the Gryffindor banners above. Fern looked a little abashed, but she still gave Kieran a wink.

Harriet glanced down the table. Nan was watching Kieran and Fern flirting with a crestfallen expression. Harriet sighed sadly. She remembered the little crushes she’d had when she was Nan’s age.

They finished their breakfast and bid Fern farewell as they returned to Gryffindor tower. They got their bags and made their way back down to the History of Magic classroom. The new professor wasn’t there when they arrived. Harriet felt a twinge as she looked around the room. Professor Stratton always got a kick out of decorating his room in the theme of whatever topic they were discussing.

Professor Robertson didn’t seem that invested. The room looked like any ordinary classroom, even in a Muggle school.

“Bit more barebones, eh?” Harriet heard AJ observe from the back of the room.

Harriet twisted her lips irritably. She was distracted from her irritation by the door opening and Professor Robertson striding in. Harriet had never really spoken with him before, but Hermione looked eager as ever.

In fact, Harriet spent so little time in the library, and Professor Robertson never came to meals, that Harriet had entirely forgotten what Professor Robertson looked like. He was reasonably tall and balding, with hair that Harriet couldn’t tell was blonde or already gone grey. His skin was fair, as though he did not go outside much, though he had many worry-lines.

“Morning, all,” Professor Robertson said curtly as he headed to the front of the room. “You’ll forgive me for being late; I was only informed last week that I would be taking this position temporarily and as you can hopefully appreciate, that did not leave satisfactory time to complete a proper lesson plan.”

Harriet and her friends exchanged looks. That made it sound like Professor Stratton was supposed to be back already.

“First thing’s first, my name is Giles Robertson, and I’m your professor for the time being. I’m not the fun and games type. History of Magic is a subject that has been seriously neglected for far too long. Professor Stratton has made headway in correcting that, but in his absence, I aim to bring the seriousness to the subject we all need.”

Professor Robertson sniffed and turned to the blackboard. “As I have no idea how long I will be required to teach this class, I have little choice but to treat this as a full-year position, and prepare you properly for your O.W.L.s.”

 _O.W.L.s already?_ Harriet thought. _It’s the first day of the year._

“I know some of you are thinking, ‘but it’s only the first day,’” Professor Robertson said in a sarcastic tone as he wrote out _History_ in chalk. “But I guarantee you all that this is not the last time you will hear about them today, or for the rest of the year.”

Professor Robertson turned around, sniffing deeply, studying the class. “Now, who can tell me what ‘history’ is?”

Hermione’s hand punched the air first.

“Miss Granger.”

“History is a chronological record of past events, and discussion of their causes.”

Professor Robertson leaned on his desk. “Good. A good dictionary definition, but not quite what I’m looking for, Miss Granger.”

Hermione lowered her hand, looking wounded. The entire class was staring from Hermione to Professor Robertson in disbelief.

Professor Robertson didn’t look at all abashed. His eyes kept sweeping the room. The silence dragged out before finally Professor Robertson sighed and turned back to the blackboard. He picked up the chalk and wrote out—

“Everything!” Professor Robertson said spinning back around. “History is everything! History is why we haven’t had to rediscover the Pythagorean Theorem or Gamp’s Law of Elemental Transfiguration and its four exceptions over and over again. Quidditch scores over the last few centuries are history. Fashion trends, animal husbandry techniques, music. Everything we record down and preserve for posterity is history. Everything that happens and is remembered in our minds is history.”

The class was staring at Professor Robertson, except for Hermione who was feverishly writing down every word Professor Robertson spoke. Harriet had to admit his passion was infectious.

“Five points to Gryffindor, Miss Granger, for beginning your note-taking so dutifully,” Professor Robertson said.

At once there was a flurry of activity as everyone scrambled to get out their ink, quills, and parchment. Professor Robertson shook his head with amusement and resumed his lecture.

“Now! Now that we have answered the most important question of what history is, we can move onto the second most important question: why history?”

Hermione raised her hand, but to the class’s surprise, so did Neville.

Professor Robertson gave Hermione a kind smile. “I’m sure you have this one, Miss Granger, but as I’ve just given you five points, let us give Mister Longbottom a chance to earn some. Yes, Longbottom?”

Neville swallowed, but Basheera nudged him encouraging.

“W-well, it’s like you said, Professor, ‘history is everything’, and it’s why we don’t have to keep rediscovering stuff like Pythagoran’s—”

“The Pythagorean theorem, yes,” Professor Robertson chuckled. “Very good, Neville. That is correct. Five more points to Gryffindor.”

Neville exhaled but looked pleased with himself.

“So, we now know that history is everything… and why that makes it so important. Fantastic. You’ve now learned more about history than most people learn in their lifetimes.”

The class exchanged looks.

“Professor Stratton taught us lots,” Dean said defensively.

“Yes, you’ve learned history, but not _about_ history,” Professor Robertson elaborated. “The nuts and bolts, the how and why. That’s every bit as important. You students are taught why they need to know mathematics, you’re taught why you need to know Transfiguration, but you’ve never been taught why this subject matters. I lament how irresponsible this school has been in allowing Binns to persist as a teacher just to save a few sickles!”

The class all stole sideways glances at Hermione, now. Of all of them, Hermione was the only one who could successfully fight off the effects of Professor Binns’ soporific voice. She had also stood up for Professor Binns the most when the others would complain.

“This year we’re going to change that. For as long as I have to do so, anyway. Who knows, perhaps Stratton will return tomorrow, in which case, I still feel I have done my part.”

“So, what are we studying first, pr’fesser?” Jackson asked.

“Something terribly relevant to the world we live in today,” Professor Robertson said. “A topic which, had it been studied, might have avoided You-Know-Who’s previous rise, and his current one.”

The class went silent. Harriet once more glanced towards the back of the room. Harriet was sure if Parvati and Lavender believed she was an Obscurus, they were likely to believe the _Daily Prophet_ that Dumbledore had just been making up Lord Voldemort being back to try and take Fudge’s place.

Parvati and Lavender did indeed look sceptical, yet troubled.

“Now, then…”

Harriet returned her attention to the front of the class. Professor Robertson had resumed writing on the blackboard. The words now read:

_Gellert Grindelwald_

_For the Greater Good_

## * * * *

Harriet’s mind was swimming. She’d heard of Grindelwald before, but never in any detail. He sounded just as awful as Lord Voldemort. Professor Robertson told them that Grindelwald was considered second worse after Lord Voldemort. Harriet supposed she saw that point of view, but perhaps Grindelwald was worse.

Lord Voldemort, Harriet thought, was at least transparent about his aims. He didn’t try and hide that he was evil and wanted to kill Muggles and Muggle-borns. Grindelwald said he was acting for the ‘greater good’.

Even worse, Grindelwald seemed like a middle ground between two of the worst people Harriet knew; Voldemort and Kinney. He was like Solomon Kinney with a cause. He was like Voldemort with nuance and charisma. That was how he managed to get so many people to his side, despite killing so many people.

Even worse, Harriet thought of poor Hyland Stevens, the boy who lived with the owner of the Hog’s Head tavern. He had been born a monster because of terrible experiments Grindelwald had performed on his grandfather. Hyland was so sweet, but his ‘split’ side, Jerrad, was terrifying. He could move with incredible speed and possessed horrifying strength.

Harriet didn’t get long to think about that, however. They had Double Potions. Potions was never fun, but now she was taking Occlumency lessons with both Professor Snape and Draco, things were liable to be more awkward than ever.

Draco was determinedly not looking at Harriet. Nor anyone else, for that matter. He sat in the back of the classroom, away from everyone else, talking to no one.

Professor Snape, as was his custom, pretended Harriet didn’t exist. Harriet was too used to this by now, but it still hurt. True to Professor Robertson’s warning, Professor Snape began the lecture with warnings about the O.W.L. exams. He managed to make them suitably terrifying, as he did with most everything.

“I only accept those who get an Outstanding on their O.W.L.s into my N.E.W.T. years,” Professor Snape explained. “Normally, I would consider this a glorious opportunity to remove the unworthy from my presence.”

Professor Snape’s eyes lingered on Neville, who blanched.

“However… your performance in your O.W.L.s—most unfortunately—also reflects upon me. I am therefore resigned to push you all as hard as I can this year to perform at an Outstanding level on your Potions O.W.L. I assure you, those who don’t will receive my… displeasure…”

Neville whimpered.

Two hours later, they made it up to the Great Hall for lunch. Harriet was already exhausted. Professor Snape had them brewing the Draught of Peace. Everyone was eager to make the potion, as they were sure knowing how to brew the potion would be helpful when the stress of the O.W.Ls reached their peak. However, when Professor Snape informed them all, halfway through the class, that incorrectly brewing the potion could result in the drinker falling into an irreversible sleep.

“Ugh, he sounds awful,” Fern said as Hermione filled her in. “Professor Tenery was great. A bit crazy, but great.”

“What did you have?” Kieran asked.

“We had Charms, first. Professor Flitwick is _amazing_. Our Charms teacher was good, but Flitwick is so _nice_.”

“Flitwick’s great,” Marcus agreed, “he’s been private tutoring me in Charms since my first year.”

“Fire charms, specifically,” Kieran chortled. “Stop you setting the room on fire.”

Marcus flushed, playing with his food a little with his fork.

“We fixed that fast enough… It wasn’t…”

“Hey,” Kieran smiled patting Marcus’ shoulder. “I’m just teasing you, mate.”

Marcus’ flush grew. “I know… sorry…”

Marcus didn’t look cheered up.

“What else did you have?” Hermione asked, changing the subject.

“Transfiguration,” Fern said. “Professor Weasley’s a bit of a twat, isn’t he?”

Harriet snorted into her pumpkin juice. Kieran patted her on the back. Harriet coughed, setting down her goblet and thanking him. After so many years, it was positively bizarre for Harriet to think of Percy as ‘Professor Weasley’.

“I’ve been curious as to what he’s like as a professor,” Hermione said, ignoring the slight and everyone’s reactions. “He used to be a prefect in our house, you know? And he was Head Boy.”

“Yeah, he bragged about that,” Fern said. She glanced toward the staff table where Percy was sitting, chatting with Professor Sprout.

“What?” Marcus asked.

“I don’t know…” Fern said. “I just… don’t like him… I just have a bad feeling about him.”

No one was laughing anymore. Instead, they were all exchanging worried looks. Percy was a prat, sure enough. But surely there wasn’t anything dangerous or scary about him?

Marcus seemed to agree.

“I’ve had my fair share of disagreements with Perc—Professor Weasley over the years, but I don’t think he’s anything to worry about…”

Fern didn’t look convinced but dropped the subject. All through lunch, Harriet noticed she kept stealing little glances at Percy.

Harriet, meanwhile, was looking across the Great Hall towards the Slytherin and Ravenclaw tables. Specifically, she was watching Dora and Ronnie sitting with Krystelle and Fern’s other old friends, and Scott sitting with Colm.

An unpleasant feeling of jealousy began rising in Harriet’s stomach. For the first time since they met, Harriet felt herself beginning to get annoyed with Fern. Why did her group of friends have to start spreading out just because Fern wasn’t talking to her old friends?

In fact, now Harriet thought about it, Fern was being silly. There were far worse reasons not to want to talk to your friends anymore. Kieran and Dora had been upset with Harriet over the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but they had all gotten over that.

Harriet didn’t say anything. She merely kept eating far past the point of being full. She still had Divination left, today. That was a subject she’d rather tackle on a full stomach.

## * * * *

Ten minutes later, Harriet and Ronnie were on their way to Divination. Harriet kept stealing sideways glances at Ronnie. She must have done it enough, as Ronnie noticed.

“You alright?” Ronnie asked.

“I don’t know,” Harriet admitted. “Fern said something weird at lunch…”

Ronnie raised an eyebrow.

“About Percy…”

Ronnie snorted. “Fern, too?”

Harriet blinked. “What?”

“Sitting at lunch, Krystelle and all them old Rathlin kids said they thought he was weird and creepy,” Ronnie explained. “I don’t get it. He’s a prat, but he’s not a creep.”

They walked in silence a little more.

“You sure that’s all that’s bothering you…?”

Harriet sighed. “I miss you…”

Ronnie stopped. “You miss me? I’m right here, aren’t I?”

Harriet rubbed her forehead. “I mean… I miss hanging out at meals… you and Dora are always off with Krystelle and them… Scott’s always with Colm…”

Ronnie gave Harriet a sad little look.

“Yeah, I miss us all hanging out together, too… You could come hang out with us, too, you know?”

Now it was Harriet’s turn to feel guilty.

“I… true, I guess…”

“I mean, I get it though… or at least Dora explained it to me.”

“Explained what?”

“You and Fern,” Ronnie said. “You’re famous, Fern’s famous, neither of you want to be… you get each other.”

Harriet didn’t say anything. She had noticed the connection she and Fern had and thought about it at length. If she’d noticed it, of course, her other friends had.

“Dora and I are trying to get them to put it all behind them,” Ronnie said. “They want to, too, but like… it’s Fern.”

Harriet twisted her lips. She had figured that much.

“They’re just trying to give her space,” Ronnie said. “It’s… a shit-show for everyone.”

Harriet snorted. “A shit-show?”

Ronnie flushed. “It’s what Holly called it…”

Harriet smiled. “So, how is it, getting to hang out with your hero?”

Ronnie grinned. “Pretty cool. She’s more serious than I thought she’d be, but she’s fun. I suppose getting blown-up didn’t help… Anyway, she said she’d offer me pointers on football, but she didn’t want to give us too much of an advantage over Ursula House’s football team.”

Harriet laughed.

## * * * *

Divination was no better than Potions. Harriet often wondered which Professor she found worse; Professor Snape, or Professor Trelawney. Professor Snape was cold and cruel, but at least he was a brilliant potioneer.

Professor Trelawney, by most people’s reckoning, was a complete fraud. Harriet had seen Professor Trelawney make a real prophecy before, so Harriet knew she wasn’t a total fake. However, she seemed to have no control over her visions, and thus all the techniques she tried to teach them in class were complete bullocks.

On the plus side, at least she didn’t lecture them about the O.W.L.s today. Instead, she seemed to have quite the opposite mindset. Rather than warn them of the importance of O.W.L.s, she instead expressed disdain.

“Often have I advised you all on the nature of Divination, and the necessity of the inner eye! Exams matter not to those who truly possess the sight.”

“So exams were _really_ important to you, then?” Rachel whispered, just loud enough for the nearest tables to hear, causing a little wave of sniggering. Harriet snorted a laugh, too.

Professor Trelawney apparently heard, too. She was irritable for all the rest of class. The fact that everyone was distracted did not help matters. Harriet knew what was distracting them. They were all thinking about the upcoming Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson with Rachel’s brother.

Harriet was eager to see what he had to offer as a teacher. He’d nearly been killed by an Inferius trying to save Harriet’s sisters. Even if he was secretive, Harriet didn’t think she could ever forget owing him that.

The only person more excited than Harriet to see Captain Kane teach was Rachel, but that was to be expected. The moment the bell rang, Rachel had grabbed up her bag and left the room before Professor Trelawney had finished giving out their homework. Harriet wasn’t far behind.

## * * * *

Harriet came to a halt outside the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom with Ronnie in tow. She’d all but ran to get her. Rachel was already inside the room.

Harriet peered in. Captain Kane and Rachel were embracing, Rachel, kicking her feet happily. Harriet’s heart melted a little. This was the first genuine smile she had seen on Captain Kane’s face since the Yule Ball.

Captain Kane set Rachel down, and the two began talking quietly. Harriet hesitated, not wanting to interrupt.

“Come in, Miss Potter,” Captain Kane’s voice called out.

Harriet slowly stepped into the room. Captain Kane was returning to his desk, while Rachel was sitting at a table right at the front of the room.

Harriet and Ronnie took their usual place. Harriet took the time to study the room. It was different than it had ever been under any of the previous Defence Against the Dark Arts teachers. The walls were covered with maps of what looked like battles; little dots moving about the terrain.

Captain Kane was still dressed in his finest uniform. Harriet wondered if that was just because today was the first day.

The rest of the class began arriving. Hermione, Kieran, and Marcus all hurried over, sitting with Harriet and Ronnie. They were grinning just as excitedly.

Captain Kane was leaning back on his desk casually, counting the heads. When everyone had arrived, he stood and looked around the room imperiously.

“That’s everyone, we can start,” he said, though there was still five minutes until class began.

No one argued, however.

“As you were told at the start of year feast, my name is Captain Aaron Kane. It’s Captain Kane. I’m just here as a favour, so we can forget about Professor Kane. I haven’t fought my way through a hundred engagements to be called Professor.”

The class’ smiles were mostly gone. Captain Kane’s tone was no-nonsense and commanding. Harriet found herself sitting much straighter in her chair than she usually did.

“Also, I don’t have time for questions. I put up with enough of those during my first lessons today. I’m not going to talk about the war. I’m not going to tell you how many people I’ve killed. I’m not going to tell you how many friends I’ve lost. I’m here to teach you, and that’s what I’m going to do.”

Quite a few of the boys around the class looked put out at this declaration. Captain Kane picked up a book from his desk. Harriet recognised it as their textbook, _Defensive Magical Theory_.

“I gotta admit, I didn’t have time to come up with much in the way of lesson plans. The Ministry did that for me.”

Captain Kane dropped the book in the bin, which Harriet noticed contained another couple of copies.

“And it was complete horseshit. So, I’m going to wing this.”

Little scandalised gasps washed over the room. Harriet’s jaw was hanging open.

“You can throw away your textbooks, or sell them. What I’d do.”

The room was still deathly silent. Hermione slowly raised her hand.

“Yeah?”

“I-if we’re not going to follow the Ministry’s plan… what are we going to do, Sir…?”

“Talking to Professor McGonagall, you’ve dealt well with dark creatures, and you’ve learned what most dark magic is. So what I’ve got to teach you is how to fight.”

“Like duelling?” Dean asked.

Captain Kane scoffed. “Duelling? They still call it that, here?”

The class fell silent again.

Captain Kane rubbed his forehead. “Yeah, duelling’s important. It’s fallen out of vogue and doesn’t mean much in full on wizarding warfare, which by all accounts is going to hit here soon.”

Now some murmuring started. This was the second time today that a teacher insinuated that Lord Voldemort was back. At least Harriet thought that’s what Captain Kane was insinuating.

“Duelling as a training technique does little more than teach you how to expect attack, dodge and deflect attacks and counter-attack. The most important thing is accuracy. This means target practice.”

The class looked around the room. There weren't any targets to be seen.

“They’re outside,” Captain Kane explained.

“Outside!” Parvati scoffed. “But Prof—Captain—Kane, it’s pouring.”

“The summer of 1993 we used the cover of Tropical Storm Arlene to invade Texas. Battle of Matagorda County. Foot of rain fell by the time it stopped. If they don’t cancel Quadpot for weather, combat won’t wait for it, either,” Captain Kane trailed off. “And that’s as much as I’m telling you.”

“Quadpot?” Lavender whispered.

“’Murican version’a Quidditch,” AJ replied.

Harriet noted that AJ was giving Captain Kane an icy look. Harriet remembered that AJ was originally from Texas. She probably didn’t appreciate hearing about fighting going on in her childhood home. Reminding herself that AJ had joined in thinking Harriet was too dangerous to share a dormitory with, Harriet found she didn’t feel all that sympathetic.

“Leave your books and things here,” Captain Kane said.

“Can we at least get raincoats?” Lavender asked, pleading a little.

Captain Kane considered. Ten minutes later, they were all standing in the grounds, wearing bin-bags with holes cut out for their heads and arms as rain ponchos. Lavender and Parvati were looking particularly miserable about this. Harriet gave Captain Kane a sideways glance. She had a strong suspicion that he was rather enjoying himself, but as ever, his face remained unreadable.

There were six posts stuck into the ground. Each had a tin can set upon it. Harriet could barely see the cans through the rain.

“Target practice. You can know as many spells as you want, they don’t mean a damned thing if you can’t hit with them.”

“Makes sense,” Jackson mumbled.

Rachel said something in agreement, but she was hard to make out, she was already shaking.

“Line up,” Captain Kane ordered. “One line per post.”

They lined up. Dean and Seamus, apparently eager to prove themselves, took the first spot in two of the lines. Harriet got behind Ronnie, who was bouncing a little with anticipation. To Harriet’s surprise, Hermione got near the back of her line.

“Who’s going to set up the cans, after?” Neville asked. He clearly thought this would be a safer prospect, or perhaps thought he could get out of showing Captain Kane his terrible aim.

“I don’t think that’ll be a problem, after this morning,” Captain Kane said, matter-of-factly. “Aim.”

“What spell should we use, Pr—Captain?” Marcus asked.

“Whatever comes to your mind. Just hit the can,” Captain Kane said. “Aim.”

The first line drew and aimed their wands.

“Fire.”

There was a blaze of light and incomprehensible shouts. When the lights faded, all six cans were still standing.

“Again, aim!”

Six frustrated students raised their wands again.

“Fire!”

Again, no hits.

“AGAIN!”

No hits.

“Come on!” Captain Kane commanded, strolling up and down the line. “The enemy’s advancing! They’re going to kill you! Hit them first! Fire!”

Four of the six spells collided with their cans. Ronnie, Dean, Kieran, and Rachel all looked both surprised and pleased with themselves. Captain Kane flicked his wand, and all the cans hopped back onto the posts.

“Line is fatigued! Enemy still advancing! Second line forward! Keep holding the line! Come on!”

Harriet stepped forward with the second line.

“Aim!”

Harriet raised her wand.

“Fire!”

“ _Stupefy!”_

Harriet’s can leapt into the air, jangling away. Captain Kane summoned it.

“Good, Potter. Back of the line. Next! Aim!”

Captain Kane’s energy was infectious. He was moving eagerly amongst the students, his face bright and his eyes twinkling. He looked alive again. He didn’t sound frustrated when they missed. He kept encouraging and kept pushing. Harriet’s heart was racing a little. She even forgot how wet and cold it was.

On and on it went. Only Harriet managed to hit her can on the first try. After the whole class had tried, Captain Kane was looking disappointed.

“It’s ten yards,” Captain Kane said.

“We’re cold,” Parvati said, irritably.

“And wet,” Lavender sniffled.

Captain Kane flicked his wand, and reset the cans.

“Thinks he’s so hot,” Dean muttered under his breath.

Captain Kane chuckled. “You think this is cold? Just imagine doing this in the cold of the Rockies under spell and gunfire.”

“Gunfire?” Seamus scoffed. “What good’re guns against magic?”

Captain Kane sniffed. His eyes drifted to Harriet.

“Miss Potter. I’m informed you can do a Shield Charm?”

“I—yes?” Harriet stammered.

“Step to the front, please.”

Harriet slowly moved to the front of the lines.

“When I say go, draw your wand, and cast a Shield Charm.”

“S-sir?”

Captain Kane winked. “Trust me. This is very educational.”

“Yes sir,” Harriet said.

Captain Kane turned to the cans.

“Draw.”

Harriet reached for her wand. In one fluid motion, Captain Kane tossed his wand into the air, reaching his right hand into his coat. He caught the wand in his left hand, at the same time drawing a pistol. It was old-fashioned looking, a revolver like the kind from old Westerns.

Harriet was just about to shout _Protego_ when an earsplitting bang caused her to jump and nearly drop her wand. There were five more bangs after that. When the bangs stopped, all six of the cans were scattered about the posts; noticeable holes punched through them.

Harriet blinked. She hadn’t even been able to cast the charm before Captain Kane shot all six cans.

The class were all lowering their hands from their ears, staring in shock. Captain Kane slid the pistol back into its holster in his coat, patting it. He looked back at Seamus, then checked his watch.

“That’s how good they are, Finnigan. Class dismissed.”

The students all began drifting back towards the school. Harriet was so shocked she’d forgotten just how wet she was. She was starting to shiver again. No one spoke the whole way back to the school. Whether they were too cold and wet, or too shocked, Harriet wasn’t sure.

As they reached the entrance, Harriet saw Counsellor Umbridge standing just inside, out of the rain. She wasn’t watching the approaching students, however. Instead, she was looking past them, out into the grounds. Her eyes were fixed on Captain Kane, wearing an expression that gave Harriet a chill deeper than any storm could ever give her.


	18. Percy and Skrewt

“I must say, living in one’s own head is hard enough…”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

_The world shook. More blasts and explosions ripped through the air. She could hear screams. Where were her parents? Where are Aaron and Blaine? There’s Aaron! But what’s that on the floor…?_

_Something fell past her face. The ceiling was caving in! No, it was fluffs of yarn. It was raining the weird misshapen hats Hermione was knitting last night for the house-elves. Ronnie’s being buried in them, trying to climb out._

_She was floating. She must have taken one of those fainting sweets Fred and George were testing on first years last night before Hermione and Marcus told them off. Fred and Angelina are snogging. Oh, Merlin, she’s dreaming… Wait, why is she holding a revolver?_

_The door comes ever closer. She can’t stop herself. She wants to see in that door. What’s behind that door?!_

“Harriet?”

Harriet grunted, blinking her blurry eyes open. She rolled over to see the familiar shape of Hermione leaning over her.

“Hmm?” Harriet mumbled, sitting up.

“It’s morning,” Hermione said.

“Was I talking in my sleep?” Harriet asked, embarrassed.

Hermione puzzled. “No?”

“Huh, that’s good,” Harriet admitted. “I had more weird dreams…”

Hermione sat beside Harriet, looking worried. “More?”

“Yeah,” Harriet admitted. “Just weird… random things. Like… memories that aren’t my own?”

Hermione grimaced. “Harriet… do you think this is related to your Legilimency?”

Hermione was whispering. She glanced over her shoulder at the rest of the room. Harriet knew why Hermione was worrying. People were worried enough about her being an Obscurial. She could only imagine what would happen if they found out she could read minds.

“I’ve thought that,” Harriet admitted.

Hermione looked grave. “Well, they aren’t fun, but I’m sure your lessons with Professor Snape will help.”

Hermione looked off, musing. “It would explain why you’ve been having trouble sleeping.”

Harriet was about to slide out of bed, but Hermione put a hand on hers.

“Thank you for confiding in me, Harriet…” Hermione said.

Harriet smiled a little. “Well of course.”

Hermione smiled back before rising to let Harriet up. Harriet dressed, and they headed down to the common room. Hermione quickly went to the spot where she’d left the misshapen, knitted hats. To her disappointment, they were all still there. The elves had neatly picked up the trash she had placed on the pile but left all the hats.

Fred and George were giving Hermione cool looks. She’d threatened to write to Mrs Weasley if they continued testing their products on first-years. Harriet gave Fred sideways glances where he sat with Angelina. She looked down at the silver bracelet he had given her for Christmas of her third-year.

Why the hell was this so hard? In films and books, it was always so clear who the best person was, but the reality was proving quite different for Harriet. Fred wasn’t perfect, but he could be very sweet, and he’d always been there for her when she needed someone. But Finn was too, and he’d admitted being in love with her.

Harriet’s throat clenched at that thought. Finn was in love with her.

Harriet led her friends out through the portrait hole. She didn’t want to think about those things anymore. She had enough on her mind. The Great Hall was abuzz with gossip, but for once, Harriet was sure it wasn’t about her. Most eyes that she could see were on Captain Kane.

He was sitting back in his chair as though nothing was happening. He was casually sipping coffee while reading a book. Harriet squinted, just able to make out the title: _The Book of Five Rings_.

“He is a warrior and a scholar,” Mayu Watanuki said wistfully.

She and the rest of the Gryffindor fourth-years were sitting close by. Mayu, Minako Minagawa, and Minami Takamiya all sighed dreamily watching him.

“How so?” Ryan Yukisaki asked.

“He is reading _The Book of Five Rings_ ,” Minako said importantly. “They are the teachings of Miyamoto Musashi, the world’s greatest swordsman. He was never defeated in sixty duels!”

Minami and Mayu nodded in agreement. Ryan was staring at them blankly.

Mayu gave Ryan a surprised, almost pitying look. “Yukisaki-san, do you know nothing of your heritage?”

Ryan lowered his head a little, looking slightly ashamed. “I know some, but not…”

Ginny’s ears turned red, always a Weasley warning sign.

“He’s lived his whole life in Britain,” Ginny said defensively. “This _is_ his heritage.”

Mayu looked as though Ginny had smacked her before she too lowered her head. Minako and Minami looked affronted.

“Gomen-nasai…” Mayu muttered under her breath.

“She’s new here, Ginny,” Minako declared. “She’s still learning.”

“What’s going on here?” came the voice of Percy—now professor—Weasley.

The group of fourth-years fell silent. Most were looking up at him with apprehension, except for Ginny, who was defiant. Ginny was about to say something when Mayu stood up and bowed to him.

“I was inconsiderate and hurt Yukisaki-san’s feelings, Weasley-sensei,” Mayu said.

Percy blinked taken aback at the up-front admission of guilt.

“Oh, I-I see, Watanuki-kun,” Percy said, recovering and returning her little bow. “I’m sure it’s just a misunderstanding.”

Mayu looked briefly impressed. Harriet supposed Percy was addressing her correctly. She was having trouble making sense of all the different suffixes Mayu used addressing people.

Percy smiled indulgently at Mayu. “I previously worked in the office of International Magical Cooperation, you know? I had to learn all about the varied, fascinating cultures of Four Nations students.”

Mayu turned to Ryan and bowed to him. “Please accept my apology, Yuk—Ryan.”

Ryan went as red as Ginny’s hair. “Th-that’s okay, Mayu. Really.”

Ginny rolled her eyes, resuming eating.

Percy was studying the table. “You know, we have quite a variety of students in Gryffindor house, now. Quite astonishing. You know what?” he smiled down at the fourth-years again. “What do you say, as a treat for Gryffindor House, one of these weekends we have an international event? Something where we can all share bits of our culture and heritages? Really bring Gryffindor House together?”

“That… would be pretty cool, Professor,” Katy Tyler admitted.

The rest nodded in agreement. Even Ginny looked as though she was having a hard time disapproving of this plan. Harriet had to admit that she thought it was a good idea, too, even if she was annoyed with Percy for what he’d said in the _Daily Prophet_ over the summer about her being brainwashed by Solomon Kinney and Dumbledore.

Suddenly Percy flicked his wand just in time to stop a pair of roast kippers from hitting the side of his head.

“Nice try, but that’s detention for each of you,” Percy said resignedly.

No one was in any doubt who he meant.

“The glory is in the struggle, Perce,” Fred called from farther down the table.

Widespread giggles swept over the Gryffindors, and more than a few Hufflepuffs. Harriet couldn’t help but join in. Even Hermione’s lips were twitching.

Percy moved up to the staff table. He attempted to engage Captain Kane in conversation, but Captain Kane gave him such a cold look that Percy quickly became much more interested in his breakfast.

Marcus was prodding his food with his fork. Of all of them, Marcus had gotten along the worst with Percy. He’d received numerous detentions from Percy over the years for standing up to Percy’s authoritarian reign as a prefect and then head boy.

“He does seem to have matured a little,” Hermione said, glancing sideways at Marcus. “He’s…”

“Downright friendly,” Kieran admitted.

Marcus merely shrugged.

“At least he doesn’t think you’ve been brainwashed,” Harriet said miserably.

Marcus grimaced. “Sorry… you’re right.”

“Still wonder what Fern meant?” Kieran pondered. “He doesn’t seem any weirder than usual…”

“Maybe that’s what’s weird?” Marcus chuckled.

Kieran looked around. “Where is Fern?”

“I’m not sure,” Hermione explained. “It’s so frustrating with her being in Ursula House with all its secrets.”

“Better get used to it,” Marcus muttered. “It’s only the second day…”

Just then, Rachel came up to them. She was wringing her hands in worry.

“Have any of you seen Jackson?” she asked, looking at Kieran and Marcus in particular.

Marcus grimaced. “He came to bed last night, but he left early this morning.”

Rachel bit her lip with worry, bouncing on the balls of her feet a little.

“Rachel, dear, what is it?” Hermione asked.

Harriet’s forehead was hurting. She was starting to feel anxious as well.

“He… the whole thing with the pistol yesterday upset him, I can tell, but he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

“I’m sure he’s alright,” Kieran said gently. “Maybe he just went for a walk. If he’s not in Charms then we can start to worry, I think.”

“Have you checked the hospital wing?” Marcus suggested.

Rachel’s eyes widened. “I haven’t! You don’t think? I’ll go right now!”

“Rachel,” Hermione said rising and putting a hand on Rachel’s arm. “If he’s in the hospital wing he’s getting the best care he could ever hope for. There’s no need to panic.”

“You’re right,” Rachel said, calming slightly. “Still, I’ll go check the hospital wing. Thanks.”

They finished breakfast. They were just heading out the door into the entrance hall when a girl suddenly appeared in front of Harriet. They bumped into each other. Harriet took a step back, but the girl continued past Harriet.

“Sorry, in a hurry,” the girl said.

Harriet watched after the girl, too taken aback by the abruptness of the encounter to say anything. She recognised the girl, but couldn’t place her name. She’d come with the Americans and was in Ravenclaw.

“The hell, Ash?” Ronnie asked.

The girl said nothing, continuing to sit with Fern’s old friends. She sat next to Holly Cambridge, and the pair immediately began whispering to each other out of the corners of their mouths. Just then, Harriet remembered seeing the girl sitting with Holly Cambridge outside the Great Hall during the Yule Ball, giving Holly the kind of smile she wanted Finn to give her.

“Who’s that?” Hermione asked.

“Ashley Roth,” Ronnie said. “One of the Yanks. She’s usually really shy and quiet.”

They said no more on the strange subject as they headed off to Charms. Harriet was relieved to see that Rachel had indeed found Jackson. He looked ghostly pale and twitchy.

“M’fine,” Jackson mumbled as Rachel dabbed his forehead with a hankie for him.

“We need to take you to the hospital wing,” Rachel said. “Or you at least need some sleep!”

“I got sleep,” Jackson retorted.

“How much?” Rachel asked, putting her hands on her hips.

“…maybe an hour,” Jackson mumbled guiltily.

At that moment, Professor Flitwick opened the door and ushered the students inside. After they sat, Professor Flitwick joined the refrain of their teachers the previous day in launching at once into dire warnings about the importance of their upcoming O.W.L.s. Fortunately, he set them to rehashing the Summoning Charm that he had taught them last year. As Harriet now had ample practice, this meant she didn’t have to add to the homework that Professor Robertson had given them.

Ronnie’s feet seemed to grow heavier with each step towards the Transfiguration classroom.

“Oh Ronnie,” Hermione said gently. “It’s going to be alright.”

“You weren’t there,” Ronnie growled. “The things he said to Dad…”

“Well then this is your chance to be the bigger person,” Hermione smiled.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. If Harriet knew Ronnie, she was strongly considering throwing food at Percy’s head as well. Possibly worse.

Probably worse.

Percy was waiting for them. He looked perfectly at ease as the students entered and took their usual seats.

“Welcome Gryffindors,” Percy smiled around at them. “Some very familiar faces.”

No one responded. Percy seemed bound and determined to press on with his lesson despite any awkwardness.

“Now we’re all here; I suppose I should get the most unpleasant bit out of the way. You all know what I’m about to bring up, yes?”

“O.W.L.s,” the class said in unison, sounding miserable.

Percy chortled. “Precisely. I know it doesn’t seem like it, but O.W.L.s are critical in helping you find a future career path that best suits your talents. It’s what your education is all about!”

Harriet and Hermione exchanged sideways glances. As Marcus had joked, so far the only weird thing about Percy Harriet noticed was how normal he was acting. He seemed genuinely happy to be teaching.

Ronnie and Marcus weren’t paying much attention. Percy seemed to be overlooking them. Harriet figured he was smart enough to know why neither of them was being all that friendly just yet.

Harriet’s attention was starting to wan. Percy Weasley. She’d been around him plenty ever since coming to Hogwarts. She’d stayed at his house before. She’d kept his secret that he had a girlfriend for him (not that Percy had known that Harriet knew). And yet he had the gall to tell the _Daily Prophet_ that Solomon Kinney was controlling Harriet and Professor Dumbledore was in league with him. _Like Dumbledore needs Solomon Kinney’s help to be more popular than Fudge and get voted into his spot as Minister for Magic!_

“Miss Potter-Dusk?”

The room was quiet. Harriet was looking around. Everyone was looking back at her.

Percy’s face was kind and worried. “Are you alright?”

“Yes, fine,” Harriet said quickly.

“Okay…” he sounded doubtful. “Please turn to page 188 in our text. We’re starting Vanishing Spells today. While they’re easier than Conjuring Spells, which you’ll study at N.E.W.T. level, they are still incredibly difficult, so you will all need to study hard on them and focus.”

Percy wasn’t wrong. Harriet’s sense of frustration grew and grew with each failed attempt to vanish her snail. Hermione didn’t help. She’d succeeded in vanishing her snail on the third try and was now trying to give Harriet pep-talks and pointers. Harriet bitterly wondered why she was focusing so much on Harriet. Ronnie was having just as hard a time as Harriet was.

“I’ll get it, Hermione!” Harriet snapped, louder than she’d intended.

Where was her anger coming from? She hadn’t slept particularly well, for sure. She hadn’t been sleeping well at all if she was honest with herself.

“Miss Potter-Dusk, are you sure you’re alright?” Percy asked.

Harriet swallowed and took a few breaths to calm herself. She could hear Parvati and Lavender whispering a few rows behind her. She decided to take a couple more calming breaths.

“Now, now,” Percy said, addressing the two girls. “There’s nothing to worry about. Harriet’s just had a hard past-year, and she needs kindness and respect.”

Harriet blinked. Respect? Who the hell was Percy to talk about respect? However, did this mean he didn’t think she was an Obscurial? Harriet narrowed her eyes. _Not good enough._

“Yeah, I’m not dangerous, I’m just _Confunded_ or something,” Harriet grumbled. This time she wanted to be heard.

Dean snorted back what sounded like a laugh. Percy looked affronted. Something about that shocked look on Percy’s face made Harriet feel deeply satisfied.

Harriet wanted him to shout. She wanted him to get angry. Instead, Percy gathered himself.

“Now is not the time or place for such a discussion, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Percy said. “Everyone, please resume.”

The class ceased muttering and was filled with students saying _“Evanesco!”_ at increasingly irritable volumes. Harriet was feeling even more troubled. Percy kept calling her Potter-Dusk. Not even Captain Kane had remembered to do that. She looked up at Percy. He had been the one to witness the adoption. Percy’s name was on her official adoption documents. Somehow, she had felt suspicious of that. But what did this mean? If anything at all?

By the end of class, Hermione remained the only student to vanish her snail successfully. Percy showered praise on her for her talents. Hermione looked as though she wanted to be pleased with herself, but out of friendship with Harriet and Ronnie, she kept herself to simply smiling.

“Miss Potter-Dusk,” Percy said as the students finished putting away their snails. “Please see me at my desk.”

Harriet’s guard went up at once. Percy’s voice was calm, perhaps even caring, but she had never once been called to the teacher’s desk at the end of a lesson for something good.

Percy sat behind his desk as Harriet reached him. He picked up a small paper card and held it out to her.

“What’s this?” Harriet asked, taking it.

“It is a referral, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Percy said. “And despite our past familiarities, you are now to refer to me as ‘sir’ or ‘professor’.”

“A referral for what, sir?” Harriet asked.

“To see Counsellor Umbridge,” Percy explained.

“Why?” Harriet asked, before remembering. “Professor.”

Percy’s face was kind.

“You’ve been through a great deal, Harriet, a great deal… no one’s going to deny that,” Percy went on. “I’m not sure what sort of help you’ve had with your experiences, but I want to you know that we are here for you. We are here to help, whatever terrible things have happened.”

“Like the Ministry _Obliviating_ six-hundred Muggles and Squibs, sir?” Harriet asked before she could stop herself.

Percy’s lips tightened. “The Ministry’s darkest hour…” he admitted. “It’s part of why I got promoted… despite the… Crouch unpleasantness…”

Percy gave his head a shake. “Sorry, Miss Potter-Dusk, irrelevant. Anyway, I am going to tell Counsellor Umbridge that I spoke with you about some counselling sessions. Perhaps at a meal, today, stop up to the staff table and have a word with her. She’ll be expecting it.”

“Y-yes, sir,” Harriet said.

She pocketed the card and bid Percy good morning before heading off after her friends who were waiting for her at the door.

“What’d he want?” Ronnie asked at once, not caring that her voice was certainly loud enough to have carried far enough for Percy to hear.

“Said he wants me to talk to Counsellor Umbridge,” Harriet shrugged.

Kieran’s eyes narrowed. “Did he?”

“Yeah,” Harriet said.

Kieran chewed the inside of his lip. He clearly remained dubious of Counsellor Umbridge’s qualifications.

“Dunno,” Harriet said. “I don’t think I need it. I’ll have Sebastian back soon.”

Harriet reached back into her pocket for the card. It had slipped down, and as Harriet dug for it, she paused. There was something else in her pocket.

Harriet pulled out a small, folded up piece of parchment. She paused, opening it.

 

_Harriet,_

_I’m sorry to have to do this so indirectly. I’m Holly Cambridge. I regret having to make Ashley use some of her skills she’d rather forget about, but I have little choice. She’s the only person I trust to get you this note._

_Something is very weird about Umbridge House. Umbridge is up to something. We need to talk. Just the two of us. Meet in the library tomorrow lunchtime. Confirm Umbridge, Filch, and Weasley are in the Great Hall first. She gets on too well with Filch._

_Your friend Scott is compromised. The Aurors are watching Colm. We think they’re looking for Finn. They must have found out he disappeared. They might be looking for his memories, too. Something’s wrong with Colm. Something’s wrong with everyone. Can’t say any more. Destroy this._

_Tomorrow lunchtime._

_Holly Cambridge_

 

Harriet stared at the note, trying to process it. Umbridge House? Was that a slip, or a new slang for the house? It certainly seemed more appropriate.

“Who’s that from?” Kieran asked.

“Holly,” Harriet replied.

“Holly?” Ronnie asked. “Cambridge? When’d she give you that?”

“I think that Ashley girl put it in my pocket when she bumped into me,” Harriet explained, handing the note to Marcus, who drew his wand and set the note on fire at once.

“You are way too eager to do that,” Ronnie said.

“Jealous,” Marcus retorted.

Ronnie stuck her tongue out at him.

“What did she want?” Hermione asked.

Harriet looked around the group. She couldn’t tell Kieran what Holly had said about Scott. She did not regret her eagerness to hand the note to Marcus for immolation.

“She wants to meet me tomorrow. Just me and her.”

Hermione, Marcus, and Kieran exchanged looks. Ronnie, however, didn’t look that bothered.

“I bet it’s important. Holly’s pretty cool. She doesn’t seem like the other Rathlin kids. She hates that Umbridge woman, for one.”

“Okay, that’s reassuring,” Kieran said, smiling again.

“She sounds really worried,” Harriet said. “She said there’s something really bad going on in her house… I think that’s why she’s being so paranoid and only wants to meet me alone.”

Marcus snorted. “Well, this is a fun position to be in… you get one note telling you to meet with Umbridge, and another telling you to meet with someone else because Umbridge is shady…”

Harriet grimaced. He had a point. This was going to get interesting in ways that probably weren’t going to be very fun.

### * * * *

Harriet kept stealing glances over towards Holly Cambridge at lunch. Holly was doing an excellent job of ignoring Harriet, talking quietly with Ashley and her other old Rathlin friends. Harriet had to admit she was impressed. She didn’t know if she could act that casual around her friends if she suspected something was wrong with them all.

Counsellor Umbridge wasn’t there, to Harriet’s relief. She wasn’t ready to put on the ‘casual/nonchalant’ act with her right now after reading Holly’s letter. She needed some time first.

There was more gossip amongst the students, again Harriet was sure they were talking about Captain Kane. Her suspicion was confirmed by Nan and Emma who excitedly sat with Harriet.

“We had our first Defence Against the Dark Arts class!” Nan declared.

“Captain Kane is amazing,” Emma agreed.

“Did he shoot cans?” Marcus chuckled.

“Ya-huh!” both girls beamed.

“Least it wasn’t raining for you,” Ronnie said.

“We also got there early when he was still teaching the Ravenclaw N.E.W.T. students,” Nan said, ignoring Ronnie. “He challenged them to hit just one can before he could knock down all of them.”

“And I’m guessing he won?” Kieran said, his lips twitching.

“Big time!” Emma said.

“Though I think most of the Ravenclaws just wanted to see the pistol shoot…” Nan mused.

“I guess he’s teaching everyone the same thing,” Rachel chimed, having listened in. “He said we’re all far behind in proper defence training.”

“When did he say that?”

“Last night,” Rachel said.

She looked around at the confused faces and shrugged. “He’s my brother. We talk.”

“Better than I can say about my brother,” Ronnie muttered, shooting a dirty glance at Percy.

“I thought you handled yourself very well,” Hermione said encouragingly.

Ronnie rolled her eyes. “I couldn’t say anything without exploding…”

“That’s kind of what I meant,” Hermione replied. “You managed not to say anything…”

Harriet now appreciated why Hermione hadn’t tried to talk to Ronnie in class.

“Bonjour, all,” Fern said, sitting beside Hermione.

“Good afternoon,” Kieran smiled at her.

“How was Herbology?” Hermione asked.

“Great,” Fern smiled. “Really like Professor Sprout. Think I’d like to be in her house if I’d had the chance. Though Ravenclaw’s a close second…”

She gave Kieran a teasing little glance. Harriet could tell she was trying to goad him a little. Nan had gone very quiet again, while Emma was giving Fern a cool look. Harriet felt herself a little torn. On the one hand, she liked Kieran and Fern as a pair. On the other hand, she understood how Nan felt. She did appreciate Emma’s indignation on her little sister’s behalf.

“Have you had Professor Namander, yet?” Hermione asked Fern.

“No,” Fern said. “He looks… odd.”

An exaggerated sigh came from nearby. They looked down the table to see Rolf Scamander burying his head in his hands.

“You alright, mate?” Marcus asked, looking at him worried.

“I’m fine,” Rolf said irritably. He got up and left the table at once.

“Wow, he’s grouchy for a Scamander,” Ronnie observed.

Kieran sighed. “He’s… dealing with a lot.”

“How so?” Fern asked.

Marcus shook his head. “Well Professor Namander is his grandfather, Newt Scamander. Rolf has no idea why he’s here, or why he’s pretending to be someone else, but I guess they don’t get along so well.”

“How do you know?” Hermione asked.

Marcus shrugged. “He’s in our year.”

Harriet raised an eyebrow. “Then how come he hasn’t been in any of our classes?”

“He was home-schooled,” Kieran said. “So academically, he’s ahead of us; he’s taking sixth-year level classes.”

“Ohhhh,” Ronnie nodded. “that explains it.”

Hermione looked a little ruffled.

“Oh relax,” Marcus chuckled. “You’re still the smartest in the school. You just didn’t cheat like him.”

Hermione went scarlet, but Harriet could tell she was quite flattered.

### * * * *

Half an hour later, they were standing in the grounds next to Hagrid’s still vacant hut. Harriet was having a hard time keeping herself from worrying. However, if Professor Sutler and Professor Stratton weren’t back, then she was sure Hagrid still being gone was according to plan. But she did miss him, dearly.

Ronnie was practically vibrating with excitement. Dora smiled affectionately at her, as she always did whenever Ronnie’s childish excitement bubbled over. Even Pansy and Pixie were looking eager to see what the great Newt Scamander had to offer, even if he was incognito for reasons no one understood.

“Welcome, welcome,” came the cheerful, if aged, voice of Professor Namander.

He stepped around the edge of Hagrid’s hut, moving towards them leaning heavily on his walking stick. Harriet felt a bit of affection rise in her too. He put her rather in mind of a much older Kieran if he decided to follow Magizoology rather than healing.

“Good afternoon, professor!” Ronnie blurted out, still trembling slightly.

A wave of giggles washed over the class, but Professor Namander smiled gently behind his false-beard.

“And a good afternoon to you as well, Miss Weasley,” he chortled.

“He knows me,” Ronnie gasped, her jaw hanging open. Dora rolled her eyes and closed it for her with a fingertip.

Professor Namander’s old eyes scanned the students.

“Gryffindor and Slytherin, eh? Well, that'll make the class rather interesting.”

“It is a pleasure to study under you, Professor,” Parvati said sycophantically.

“Yes, thank you, Miss Patil,” Professor Namander said, hobbling past her, beckoning the students to follow him.

Harriet felt her anger boil to the surface again. Parvati and Lavender were following Professor Namander with equal excitement to Ronnie. However, Harriet knew full well that neither were that interested in magical creatures. They were just happy not to have a class being taught by Hagrid.

Dora was walking along after Parvati and Lavender, mimicking them behind their backs, though exaggerating to make them seem air-headed and vapid. Harriet and her friends, and quite a few Gryffindors and Slytherins sniggered at this.

Professor Namander lead them towards the paddock where Hagrid had shown them the Hippogriffs, and Professor Sutler, the Ceryneian deer. Harriet could hear hooves, which piqued her interest. However, she also heard deep laughter. No sooner had she heard it when Jackson gasped. He pushed past everyone, running towards the paddock.

Professor Namander merely chortled watching the boy hurry into the woods, his old eyes twinkling merrily. Harriet heard Jackson’s cry of delight and knew at once whom the laughter and hoof stomps had belonged. It was Epeius.

The class broke into the clearing around the paddock. Sure enough, Epeius was inside the paddock, dancing around happily with Jackson. Harriet glanced around the class. Even Pansy and Pixie were having a hard time not looking charmed at the sight of handsome Jackson’s bright, smiling face as the pretty horse pranced around him. Rachel’s expression was more than a little dreamy.

However, Harriet then noticed that the pair were not alone in the paddock. All around, ruffling their feathers and flapping their stubby wings, milling about and squawking in agitation, were birds Harriet recognised for a change.

Harriet was about to speak when Ronnie shrieked with excitement.

“Diricawl! Diricawl! Diricawl! Diricawl!” Ronnie declared, jumping up and down and clapping with glee.

“Diricawl?” Harriet asked. “Aren’t they called dodos?”

“Both correct,” Professor Namander chortled, dabbing his forehead with a handkerchief.

“But I thought they were extinct,” Harriet said.

“Something we’ve tried hard to ensure Muggles keep thinking,” Professor Namander said, “For the protection of the diricawl and other creatures. Muggles thought they wiped out the diricawl, or dodo as they called them, many years ago. Muggles felt a bit guilty about this and so started to care better for creatures. We let them get on with it.”

The diricawl were starting to calm down as Jackson and Epeius’ antics ceased, and Ronnie stopped hopping up and down clapping. Now she was down on her knees, cooing at them through the fence.

“Not to say that we of the magical world have not come close to repeating the Muggles’ mistakes… we very nearly wiped out the graphorn, and numerous other magical species, and in a few cases succeeded…”

Professor Namander cleared his throat.

Blaise Zabini was looking dubious at the portly birds. “Alright, so other than a nice meal, what are these good for?”

Professor Namander was about to reply when Ronnie rounded on him. “And why does a magical creature have to be ‘useful’ to be worth anything?”

Blaise scowled at her. Most of the Gryffindors sniggered tauntingly at Zabini, as did a few of the less awful Slytherins, and all of the alright ones.

“That’s quite right,” Professor Namander said. “You’re Miss Ronnie Weasley, aren’t you?” Professor Namander said, scratching under his fake beard before remembering and taking his hand out to scratch through it instead.

“Yes, Professor,” Ronnie said, breathless at being addressed by one of her heroes.

Professor Namander chortled. “Yes, my predecessors Professor Hagrid and Sutler both left me notes about you and your interests in magical creatures, birds in particular. Why I thought starting off in avian fashion would be the correct decision.”

Ronnie was grinning a little dumbstruck.

“And I started with the diricawl precisely because of their being eaten,” Professor Namander said, sadly.

The class listened with surprising attention. Harriet was sure that even if Care of Magical Creatures was not everyone’s favourite subject, they all saw through his thin disguise, and were eager to hear the words of such an expert in the field.

“Long ago, Muggles and wizards alike found the sweet diricawl on the island of Mauritius. It did not know how to deal with humans at first. The poor things had never seen them before.”

Professor Namander hobbled up to the edge of the paddock. He bent low, gently rubbing the top of the long beak of the largest specimen. It cooed and warbled in appreciation.

“They were first discovered in 1598,” Professor Namander said. “Humans began hunting them for food… Mauritius, upon its discovery, became a vital stop for ships sailing for India. In those days they had to go all the way around the southern tip of Africa. The last recorded wild diricawl on Mauritius was in 1662…”

Parvati gasped. She wasn’t being a kiss-up now. Harriet realised the horrible truth too. That was less than a hundred years.

“The diricawl has a special property… it can Apparate short distances, much like we humans can. It cannot Apparate nearly as far, but enough to evade predators. There was one predator it could not evade, however.”

Professor Namander tickled under another’s beak. “Rats… they invaded the island and began raiding diricawl nests. The adults could evade humans and cats and dogs with ease… but their eggs were helpless.”

Professor Namander lifted his floppy, wide-brimmed hat off his head and ran a hand over his bald-spot. Harriet’s lips twitched as she noticed this made the ear-hooks all the more obvious.

“It was only by luck the diricawl survived…” Professor Namander went on. “Some were relocated to the nearby island of Reunion and other uninhabited islands. So the diricawl survived, but to this day the island of Mauritius is empty of them.”

“But they’re so sweet,” AJ said, looking at the birds with pity and affection.

“These have been raised in captivity,” Professor Namander explained. “They have never had a reason to fear humans… just as their ancestors didn’t.”

“May we pet them?” Dora’s Slytherin friend, Sae, asked.

“Of course, of course,” Professor Namander said. “Though it is best to approach slowly and quietly, and with food.”

Professor Namander reached down as if grabbing for something. His hand closed on air, and he stared at the spot for a while, sadness radiating from him.

Harriet’s eyebrows twitched. She suddenly had a clear image of a dusty, old, brown case. It was something precious, a treasure beyond words.

She was distracted by Professor Namander drawing his wand and giving it a flick, mumbling “ _Accio”_. A pail came floating towards them, settling down by the fence.

Ronnie was the first to reach into the pail. She drew out not seeds, but a handful of blueberries. The diricawl became restless again, but now they seemed excited, wiggling their fluffy tails almost like excited dogs. Professor Namander stayed back, smiling approvingly.

Ronnie did not hold her hand out, however. Instead, she spread the blueberries the ground in front of the portly birds. They began darting their large-beaked heads down with surprising rapidity, gobbling up the little fruit. Ronnie giggled again.

She finally stood up and moved back. AJ hurried up now, reaching into the pail and pulling out some berries. Unlike Ronnie, she held her hand out to them.

“Wait!” Professor Namander said, but it was too late.

AJ yelped in pain and drew her hand back. There was a noticeable cut on her palm, and the diricawl yelped and squawked. In an instant, the whole flock was on the entire opposite side of the paddock; so fast they could only have apparated.

“Ow, ow, ow,” AJ hissed, a little trickle of blood forming on the cut.

“Dear oh dear,” Professor Namander said, hobbling over to AJ and taking her hand gingerly in his. “Yes, a nasty nip there. Gotta watch out for that. Unwise to let a diricawl feed from your hand. Not their fault, don’t know their own strength or the sharpness of their beaks.”

Professor Namander had his wand out, gently tracing the tip back and forth across AJ’s hand. As the class watched, the blood vanished, and the cut seemed to seal itself again, vanishing without even a scar.

“Blimey, could give Miss Momori and Madam Pomfrey a run for their money, sir,” Dean Thomas declared.

Professor Namander chuckled. “Years of experience, mistakes are, after all, the very best teacher.”

AJ was looking at her hand. She was still sulking. Harriet didn’t know why, but despite her hostile feelings towards AJ, Parvati, and Lavender over the dormitory issue, she felt a twinge of sympathy for AJ. Parvati put an arm around AJ’s shoulder.

“They reminded me of our chickens back home,” she said under her breath.

“Had chickens, did you?” Professor Namander asked, smiling. “Lovely birds. Fascinating and so fun.”

AJ sniffed and nodded. It was an odd moment. Harriet was used to seeing AJ being tough, a consummate tomboy who hated the fact that the Hogwarts uniform required her to wear a skirt. It was almost unsettling to see her being so vulnerable, particularly in front of the whole class.

“And turkeys,” AJ went on.

“You’ll have to tell me all about them,” Professor Namander said. “Now, come along here.”

Professor Namander guided AJ up to the paddock fence again. She clearly wanted to keep her distance, but Professor Namander leaned down as best he could, scooping out more berries and spread them over the ground. The diricawl returned, eating furiously again. He very gently rested a hand on top of the largest one’s back. He stroked gently with the feathers. Once it finished eating, the diricawl clacked its beak contentedly and puffed up, settling down on the ground and cooing in appreciation of the petting.

“Give it a try,” Professor Namander said, moving back.

AJ knelt. Her hand was trembling a bit with trepidation as she reached out for the diricawl, but it made no move to pull away. It kept sitting peacefully as AJ slowly set her hand on its fluffy back.

“Whoa,” AJ said.

“Yes… good so few people know they’re still around, eh? Imagine how people would treat them if they knew their feathers were this soft? They’d be harvested for their feathers at once…”

Zabini was suddenly giving the diricawl a shrewd look that unsettled Harriet deeply. Professor Namander didn’t seem to notice.

The class began to move forward again. Harriet almost gasped herself when she set her hand on the fluffy back of the diricawl. It didn’t feel like feathers, more like she was caressing a living, breathing, cotton ball.

She ended up with one of the younger, smaller ones. It warbled and cooed looking up at her, before nimbly nipping off one of the buttons on her sleeve-cuff.

“Hey,” she giggled as the diricawl swallowed—and promptly spat back out—the button.

“Ah-ah,” Professor Namander smiled. “They do tend to peck at shiny things, yes.”

“Just a button,” Harriet giggled. “There’s more important things…”

“I can sew on a new one,” Hermione said.

“…That might not be such a good idea,” Ronnie cautioned. “If your knitting’s any indication.”

Hermione didn’t speak to Ronnie for the rest of the day.

### * * * *

Harriet tossed and turned. She couldn’t sleep. It had to be well past midnight.

She was clutching Finn close. They might be looking for him? They might be looking for his memories? What if Colm asks her to see them? Why hasn’t he already? Something’s wrong; something’s very, very wrong.

Harriet tosses more, stroking the little jar. What was she going to do? What if the Ministry found Finn first? What would they do to him? What was she going to do?

What was she going to do?


	19. The Premonitory Portrait

“In the darkest times, the tiniest flickers of light can sometimes help as much as a thousand candles.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

All through breakfast, Harriet was sure that Professor Umbridge was watching her. Harriet’s paranoia was likely not helped by the fact she had not slept the previous night. She couldn’t think of what to do with Finn. She shouldn’t have brought him to Hogwarts. She should have left him in Mountain Home.

Harriet could barely focus in her classes that morning. Professor Robertson’s lesson was interesting, but Harriet could barely keep her eyes open. She was so tired that by the time they got to their next class, she had already forgotten what Professor Robertson’s lecture had focused upon. Luckily, Hermione offered her notes for Harriet to read after she got some proper rest.

Harriet stood outside the Great Hall while Ronnie checked the coast was clear. If Holly was there, Ronnie would tell her that Harriet was waiting in the library.

“Umbridge, Filch, and Perce all accounted for,” Ronnie said. “But Holly’s not there. She might be in the library already.”

“Thanks!”

Harriet hurried off towards the library. Her mind raced as she went. Should she give Finn to Holly? Maybe that would be the safest?

Harriet stopped. The pain of what she had seen in the memory stopped her, and guilt washed over her. Finn wanted Harriet to have his memories. It would be a betrayal.

Harriet reached the library. She couldn’t remember coming to the library during a meal before. It was deathly silent. She jumped as she caught sight of Professor Robertson sitting at the librarian’s desk, eating lunch.

“Oh, h-hello, sir,” Harriet said.

“Good afternoon, Miss Potter,” Professor Robertson said. “Trouble sleeping? You seemed a bit dazed in class this morning.”

His tone wasn’t accusatory, more concerned as he studied her face.

“Yes, sir,” Harriet admitted, shifting her weight from foot to foot.

“I can only imagine, with all you’ve been through,” he said. “Hence I made no remarks in class.”

“Thank you, sir,” Harriet said. “Why are you eating here alone?”

Professor Robertson chuckled. “I generally eat here alone, though I used to go into the Hog’s Head before it began to rival the Three Broomsticks in popularity. I prefer the quiet.”

“I can’t argue with that,” Harriet agreed. “Wait, the Hog’s Head’s popular?”

Professor Robertson snorted with amused disgust. “Ever since the barman hired a few of the American girls to work there. They cleaned the place top to bottom, it seems. The place is rolling in coin now. People seem more disposed to drink there now with cheeky, smiling American girls running the place.”

Professor Robertson shook his head. “I never much cared for people. People are short-sighted and borderline hive-minded. They act before they think, and when they do think they tend to try and follow the group, because it’s easier to agree than to argue.”

Harriet thought. “I guess you have a point...”

“See, trying to agree in order to fit in already,” Professor Robertson said, winking.

Harriet flushed a little. Once more, Professor Robertson had a point, but was Harriet just agreeing again? Or was he right? She was too tired for this.

Professor Robertson picked up a book. “That’s why I’ve always found my solace in books, Miss Potter. Books are how you can look into the mind of a person. You can pick them apart with no obfuscation. They cannot hide after the written word lands on the page.”

“I never thought of it like that, sir,” Harriet said.

“Not many do,” Professor Robertson said. “Just like not many are taught the reason history is so important. Most are never taught why books are important. Books are the tool of history. It cannot function without them. You cannot take everything within at face value. Study all books sceptically but study them. Read as many as you can.”

Harriet flushed. She’d never thought of books that way.

“Only real reading I’ve ever done has been textbooks and... well...”

Harriet thought it was childish to admit her love of _Nancy Drew_ books.

Professor Robertson smiled again. “Are you familiar with Carl Sagan, Miss Potter?”

Harriet shook her head.

“Brilliant scientific mind. A Muggle, you know? Sadly, he was just recently diagnosed with cancer, a grim diagnosis in the Muggle world... anyway, he’s an astronomer, among his many talents, and he once put it best how marvellous books are. I remember the quote by heart.”

Professor Robertson cleared his throat.

“What an astonishing thing a book is. It's a flat object made from a tree with flexible parts on which are imprinted lots of funny dark squiggles. But one glance at it and you're inside the mind of another person, maybe somebody dead for thousands of years. Across the millennia, an author is speaking clearly and silently inside your head, directly to you. Writing is perhaps the greatest of human inventions, binding together people who never knew each other, citizens of distant epochs. Books break the shackles of time. A book is proof that humans are capable of working magic."

“Wow...” Harriet said under her breath, digesting the quote.

“I’ve always found that last bit a funny little irony,” Professor Robertson chuckled.

Harriet was studying Professor Robertson. If Professor Namander reminded Harriet of an older Kieran, Professor Robertson was certainly an older Scott. She remembered all too well Scott telling her how he preferred reading books or being in the forest to being around normal people.

“Well, think on that, Miss Potter,” Professor Robertson said. “Find your own meaning and thoughts on them. I’ll leave you to meet Miss Cambridge.”

Harriet blinked. How did he know?

“She’s the only other student in here,” Professor Robertson said, picking up his sandwich. “It was an easy assumption.”

Harriet nodded awkwardly and bid him good afternoon. Now her mind was really racing. Should she be worried now that Professor Robertson knew about her meeting with Holly? Might he say something Percy or Umbridge would overhear?

Harriet wasn’t sure where Holly was. She should have asked. She wandered the shelves until she finally saw Holly sitting alone at a table. Harriet made her way over.

“Sorry if I’m late,” Harriet said as she sat.

Holly didn’t look upset or impatient. She wasn’t smiling, either. She seemed to have the same business-like air she had in both her letter to Fern over the summer, and the note to Harriet the previous day. Holly merely tossed her long, ginger braid back over her shoulder and gave Harriet a passable attempt at a smile.

“Nothing to worry,” Holly said. “I didn’t give a specific time. You hurrying too much would look suspicious.”

“Hadn’t thought of that,” Harriet said.

“I suppose you want to be brought up to speed on the strange goings on in our house?” Holly offered.

“Please,” Harriet said. “Fern’s cagey about it.”

Holly sniffed. “I imagine. She’s like that. Anyway, I must confess, I was not present when the Ministry attacked Rathlin. I had already gone home the previous day. As a result, I don’t know anything for certain about what happened. However, that may be working in my favour, as I don’t have to attend Umbridge’s ‘therapy’ sessions like the rest.”

Harriet tried hard to focus on what Holly was saying, but her tired mind kept drifting.

“I… admittedly lost control a bit when I found out about Finn,” Holly said, her wall coming down a bit and looking a little embarrassed. “He’s our goofy big brother, though he and I are the same age.”

Harriet smiled a little. “Yeah, that’s what everyone’s said…”

“Anyway, as I’m not in these sessions, it’s allowed me to notice strange patterns and developments. For instance, I was not invited to attend the ‘orientation’ fortnight.”

Harriet furrowed her brow.

“Right. It was only Rathlin students who witnessed the attack who had to come. I was in steady correspondence with… what’s left of my friends… all summer. Prior to the orientation, all of them spoke horribly of the Ministry. Then I lost contact while they were in orientation. When I arrived they had completely changed… They act like they’re in love with Umbridge now in particular…”

“Fern has been fairly complimentary of her…”

“I don’t doubt it,” Holly sniffed. “She follows Umbridge around everywhere. Umbridge even gave her a private room.”

Harriet fought down a twinge of jealousy. She’d probably be sleeping far better had she her own room. In fact, the table in front of her looked oddly comfortable right at that moment. Who said hard, scratched and worn tables make bad pillows?

Harriet became aware that Holly was still speaking. She was looking up at the ceiling, and so apparently hadn’t noticed Harriet’s weary attention waning.

“Someone is tampering with their memories. The most obvious suspect is Umbridge. She apparently worships Fudge, so naturally she would want the Rathlin students to like the Ministry.”

Holly leaned back in her chair in agitation. “My other suspect is Professor Weasley, if only because of the way all my classmates seem put off by him. He’s in the Ministry, too, and he rose a bit too quickly, and he’s a bit too close with Umbridge.”

Harriet’s eyes were still having a hard time focusing.

“Most likely… I’d say they’re working together.”

“Maybe,” Harriet said. “Percy—Professor Weasley—wants me to talk to Umbridge… get counselling…”

Holly’s eyes widened. “So _that’s_ why she’s been watching you the last couple of days…”

“Okay, so I’m not paranoid,” Harriet muttered.

“Not this time I don’t think. And if Professor Weasley is trying to get you to talk to her…” Holly thought hard. “I think you should do it.”

“What?”

“We need someone to talk to her and find out more,” Holly said. “She doesn’t want to talk to me about anything… so you’re our best choice.”

Harriet rubbed her forehead. She supposed this made sense. What real hurt could it do?

“Yeah, good call I think,” Harriet agreed.

“Splendid,” Holly smiled. “Now, second thing: who of your friends do you trust absolutely?”

Harriet’s mind at once began working, and yet went nowhere. Who did she trust? Hermione, of course. Normally Scott, but now if he was compromised he was out of the question. She definitely had confided the most in Kieran, but Scott was his best friend, and Kieran was sure to get angry if Harriet tried to tell him he should be careful what he said to Scott. There was Ronnie, but Ronnie wasn’t often serious enough for situations like this. There was Dora, of course. And what about Marcus? She wasn’t nearly as close with Marcus, but he was always there for any of them if they needed someone.

“Good,” Holly said.

“What?” Harriet blinked. “I haven’t named anyone.”

“It means there’s no one you trust completely; which means you’re smart in this kind of a situation,” Holly explained.

“Oh,” Harriet mumbled. “I have a few of my friends I trust pretty well, though. Hermione for sure.”

“I’d trust Dora and Ronnie, too,” Holly added. “I’ve had some good talks with them. Especially Dora. She’s everything Krystelle said she was.”

“Dora’s definitely something,” Harriet admitted.

Suddenly, something occurred to her. She had Rachel and Tori. They hated Umbridge, and the Americans had all promised Harriet help anytime she needed it.

“And they’re not _super_ close,” Harriet admitted, “but I do have some American friends who I think we can trust.”

“I’d give a passing grade to most any of the Americans,” Holly said. “They hate Umbridge with a passion. Even the Slytherin ones, which is surprising to me. Umbridge was a Slytherin herself so she’s pretty chummy with them.”

Harriet shook her head. “How do you know all this?”

Holly shrugged. “My mom’s an Auror, and I was a nosy little brat when I was a kid who didn’t know how to keep my nose out of other people’s business.”

Holly’s eyes were twinkling a little. She was definitely praising herself more than reprimanding.

Harriet snorted. “People say I’m nosy, too.”

“Precisely why I need you,” Holly said.

Harriet furrowed her brow. Holly needed her?

“Why we need each other,” Holly corrected herself. “Sorry; I’m used to being the one... you know?”

“I suppose,” Harriet said. “I guess that’s been my job around here.”

Holly’s smile grew. “I think we’re going to get along just fine, Harriet.”

Harriet smiled now, then her worry set back in. “I still don’t know what to do with Finn’s memories… and now Sirius has been hurt…”

Holly grimaced. “Yes, I heard about that… now Mom’s on a case and her contacts are on other assignments…” Holly sighed. “Ironically, I think Finn’s working in his own favour right now… if neither the Order nor my parents’ contacts could find him by now…”

“But he might be hurt,” Harriet said.

Holly gave a soft laugh. “I don’t know if anyone’s told you this, but Finn can take a serious beating…”

“So I saw…” Harriet said.

Holly narrowed her eyes.

“I… sorry I don’t know what I’m saying. I don’t think I’ve had a full night’s sleep since I came to Hogwarts.”

“I see,” Holly said, though she sounded suspicious. “Well, Finn used to get into a lot of fights when we were younger. He was never that _good_ at it, but he could take a lot of hits and get back up again. Mostly he just wore everyone down.”

Holly smiled reminiscently. “It didn’t help that he was protective of his hands and face. He never wanted to hurt his hands or jaw so he couldn’t sing or play.”

Harriet remembered the memory of Finn in the fight. He had seemed reluctant to land actual punches, and the only blows he dodged were the ones to his face.

Harriet nodded. “I’ve wanted to ask about him… but never had the chance, really…”

Holly raised her eyebrows. “Not even with Fern this summer?”

Harriet shook her head. “Was never really a good time, and I think it was still too painful for both of us…”

Holly sighed. “I guess I can see that…” Holly rubbed her cheek, thinking. “Back on track, we need a game plan for finding out what Umbridge is up to.”

Harriet was jerked back to reality. Or maybe she’d been about to fall asleep at the table.

“Not that I _don’t_ want to tell you about Finn,” Holly said. “I just would rather he told you, himself,” she smiled.

Harriet smiled back. “I think I’d like that more, too.”

“Though I suppose you’d be best asking Portia,” Holly mused. “She knows him the best of any of us.”

Harriet grimaced. She’d thought of that. She rarely saw Portia, even at meals. She’d almost had the chance to see Portia while at Mrs Figg’s, but was attacked before Portia could visit.

“I’ll ask Portia if she’s willing to talk,” Holly said. “She’s… really bitter right now. This was supposed to be her final year at Rathlin and now without somewhere to really practice, her career prospects are looking bleak… She has no means of finding places to audition… it’s a nightmare.”

“So, she’s probably not all lovey with the ministry then, either?” Harriet asked.

“I can’t tell,” Holly sighed. “I’m trying to give her space… the last time I pushed someone too hard, it sort of blew up in my face…”

“Yeah, Fern’s definitely still mad about that…”

Holly rolled her eyes. “Fern… she’s fragile. And stubborn… really stubborn.”

“She likes adventure at least,” Harriet said.

Holly gave a sad smile. “Yes, we’d go on them all the time. Nothing like what you’ve done, here… but important things, all the same.”

Harriet smiled more. She felt like she was starting to get a second wind. Which was important, as that afternoon she had Defence Against the Dark Arts again, and Captain Kane’s lessons were a bit more strenuous than his predecessors’.

She at least had the start of a plan. That was most important. She had allies. Maybe she couldn’t help Finn directly at the moment, but she could help his friends, and maybe, just maybe, she could help them solve whatever happened at Rathlin.

### * * * *

Nan’s words that night were blunt.

“You look awful.”

“Thanks, Nan,” Harriet mumbled.

They were in the common room. Harriet was trying to study. She’d spoken to Umbridge at dinner and had her first counselling session Friday. This put her in line for the worst Friday she thought she could remember. Not only did she have counselling with Umbridge, which Harriet thought was akin to walking into the lion’s den, but she’d also have another round of double Potions, more Defence Against the Dark Arts, Quidditch try-outs, and to top it all off, another Occlumency session with Professor Snape.

It’s not that Harriet didn’t like Defence Against the Dark Arts under Captain Kane. The classes were rigorous, yet Harriet couldn’t help but feel they were getting repetitive. All he was having them do was practice their accuracy. Granted, most of the class still had a long way to go in that regard, but Harriet was ready for meatier material.

“Sorry,” Nan said. “Just worrying about you.”

“Thanks,” Harriet said, more sincerely this time. “Everything’s… rough.”

“Aren’t you sleeping?” Nan asked.

“Not really,” Harriet sighed. “Too many weird dreams…”

“Is it your Legilimency?”

Harriet shrugged. “We think so.”

“Have you had your dreamcatcher out?”

Harriet thought. She had completely forgotten about it.

“I haven’t…” Harriet admitted.

Nan shook her head. “We told you they really work.”

Harriet fought off an eye-roll. She loved the twins, but they could be so childish sometimes. It was just a hoop with a pretty twine pattern and beads. Although it was a gift from her new grandparents. She should write them.

Harriet studied Nan’s worried face. She furrowed her brow. She just remembered something. Holly asked her if there was anyone Harriet trusted. Who better to trust than a sister who was already trying to find out what Umbridge was up to? Nan was younger than Harriet, but if Harriet was being fair, she was the same age Harriet was when she found out about Sirius, and faced a hundred Dementors.

“Nan…?” Harriet asked looking around the common room. Hermione, Ronnie, Basheera, Tori, and Rachel were all accounted for.

“Yes?”

“Let’s go up to my room.”

Nan’s face lit up at once. They headed upstairs, Harriet shutting the door behind them. Nan was looking around in wonder at the room. Harriet wasn’t sure what was so exciting. It was just a dorm.

Nan spied Harriet’s trunk and made her way to Harriet’s bed. DIDS was sleeping. He’d grown more lethargic since Harriet began classes. Not much, but noticeable.

“What’s going on?” Nan asked, sitting gently on the bed so as not to disturb DIDS. He was fiercely territorial of his and Harriet’s space, even against the twins.

“We have a situation,” Harriet said. “It’s about that Umbridge woman.”

Nan looked uncharacteristically serious.

“A lot of my friends are… it’s not that I can’t trust them like they’d do anything intentionally, but some are…”

“Compromised?” Nan suggested.

“Right,” Harriet smiled. Okay, maybe Nan was cleverer and a bit more mature than Harriet gave her credit for.

“I’ve been worrying about Rosie,” Nan admitted. “She’s so close with that Niamh girl… she was hanging out with me and Emma, while we were trying to find out stuff on Umbridge, but now she doesn’t really think it’s that important, and that Umbridge isn’t that bad after all.”

Harriet’s blood began to boil a little. If Umbridge did anything to Rosie…

“And I bet you’re worried about your friend, Scott,” Nan said. “I’m worried about him, he’s a lot like Rosie that way.”

“I am…” Harriet said.

“You want Emma and I to keep snooping?”

Harriet thought. “I do. I’ve spoken with Holly Cambridge. Umbridge is up to something. We think she might be working with Percy.”

Nan scowled. “Don’t like him, much…”

“Not many people do. Anyway, I want you and Emma to keep as close an eye on Umbridge and Percy as possible. Don’t actively follow them or do anything suspicious that might get you in trouble. Just note where they are, you know?”

Nan grinned. “Got it.”

Nan looked around the room a bit more, distracted. She smiled noticing Harriet had tacked up the note from Gideon.

“Aww,” Nan said. “I’m glad you liked it.”

“It was really sweet,” Harriet admitted. “In a weird way…”

“He is kinda goofy,” Nan said. “But he’s sweet. He’s never had any friends before, so he doesn’t really get how to talk to people.”

“I know how that feels,” Harriet said.

Gideon sort of reminded her of herself when she first came to Hogwarts. A gawky little kid who didn’t have any friends. At least she had Ronnie and the Weasleys at the time, she supposed.

Harriet looked to the door. She was sure she heard voices coming up the staircase. Harriet moved closer and sure enough heard Ronnie and Hermione’s voices.

“Thanks, Nan,” Harriet said. “Mione and Ronnie are coming.”

“Got it,” Nan smiled. “And remember the dreamcatcher.”

“Okay, okay,” Harriet said waving.

Nan stepped out of the room. She said hello cheerfully to Hermione and Ronnie on her way down the stairs. Her friends stepped in, Ronnie yawning and stretching.

“Nothing against your mum, but I’m so glad we don’t have Astronomy tonight,” Ronnie said.

Harriet rolled her eyes but smiled all the same.

“Have your sister spying for you, do you?” Hermione asked shrewdly.

“How did you know?” Harriet spluttered.

“An educated guess,” Hermione said simply. “But I’m honestly happy to see it.”

Harriet blinked. “You are?”

“Yes,” Hermione said. “I’m glad to see you trusting family.”

Harriet flushed and smiled. “It’s nice to have family to trust… I forget that a lot of the time. It’s not as though I’m used to it.”

“Is it about Umbridge?” Ronnie asked.

“Yes,” Harriet said. “But there’s complications…”

“Let me guess: Scott?” Hermione said.

“Bingo,” Harriet muttered.

“I was suspicious when you were a little too eager to have Marcus burn the letter,” Hermione said. “There had to be something unpleasant in there.”

Harriet filled them in on everything she’d discussed with Holly, and what had been in her note. Ronnie whistled.

“Blimey, this is serious…”

“Deadly,” Harriet replied.

Hermione was pacing, thinking hard. “We need to try and set up a network.”

Hermione was off and running. Harriet wasn’t entirely listening. An odd sense of peace was settling over her. Her friends were there for her. Her family was there for her. It was going to be okay.

Hermione broke off her rant as Basheera entered the room. Harriet was secretly grateful. As much as she wanted action, she wanted sleep more. She had allies. Her friends were with her. They would help Scott.

Harriet changed into her pyjamas. She was just about to climb into bed when she stopped. She had to. Harriet returned to her trunk and took out the dreamcatcher. It was really pretty, at least.

Harriet hung it from the oil lamp over her bed. _There_ , she thought, _right over my head. It’ll do the best there, right?_

Harriet shook her head at her own silliness. At the very least, it would make Nan happy, wouldn’t it? Harriet climbed into bed, closed her curtains, and fell asleep the moment her head hit the pillow.

### * * * *

Harriet wasn’t sure if it was the peace of mind of her friends being on her side, or the dreamcatcher but for once Harriet slept the whole night. She couldn’t remember any dreams, and while she was still tired, she felt far more rested than she had the previous day.

Overall, very little happened Thursday. Harriet couldn’t help but feel it was a calm before a growing storm. She could still feel Umbridge’s eyes on her at meals.

Harriet was curious to see what new creature Professor Namander had in store for them. She was intrigued when Professor Namander informed them that the day’s class would have to be held inside due to the likelihood their animal would escape. She was not disappointed.

The classroom was noisy as the students entered. Professor Namander was standing next to a large crate. The class was looking and gossiping with interest. Professor Namander smiled holding up a hand for silence.

Harriet stopped talking and the class ceased moving. Yet somehow, the talking continued. Everyone began looking around for the source. It began to sound like squabbling.

“No!” Ronnie gasped, her face lighting up.

“Yes,” Professor Namander grinned, putting his hand on the door to the crate.

“Corpuscular Whiffle-whaffle!”

The class stared and Professor Namander laughed, undoing the latch. The door fell open and out poured a mound of multi-coloured, roiling fur.

“Jarveys!” Professor Namander chuckled.

The mound seemed to uncoil and became a group of oversized ferrets. At once, all eyes turned to Draco, who went an unpleasant shade of puce.

“Piss-off knob berk!” one of the little Jarveys barked out as it pounced on another.

“BELL END PLONKER!” the other squeaked back.

“Are they… cursing…?” Basheera asked.

Both she and Hermione had a matching expression. Harriet could tell they couldn’t decide if the Jarveys were charming or insulting. Personally, Harriet was thrilled with them.

“In their own, awkward way, yes,” Professor Namander confirmed. “They mean nothing by it. They’re not sapient by any means. They have no idea what it is they’re saying. No one has quite figured out where the Jarveys picked it up. Likely it was an experiment by cheeky old wizards that well… took off.”

“NINNY WAZZOCK!”

“Best creatures ever,” Dean Thomas declared to much sniggering around the room. “Hands down.”

The fluffy, slender creatures were ambling around the students’ feet now. They were adorable, apart from the cursing and insults. They acted just like normal ferrets, sniffling and scampering to and fro.

“KNOB!” one shrieked.

“ARSE!”

“It is also thought they learned the phrases from gnomes… which they eat.”

“That makes sense,” Ronnie nodded. “We all learned some great ones from the gnomes in our garden. Drove Mum mad.”

“A Jarvey wouldn’t have helped that, I’m afraid,” Professor Namander laughed. “Jarveys are often employed by magical pest removers. They tackle most rodent household pests, as well as gnomes.”

Most of the class were kneeling down, barely listening. The Jarvey were too distracting, though Professor Namander really didn’t seem to mind.

Harriet was presently playing with a silvery one. It reminded her a little of DIDS when he got more playful. It was gnawing on her finger but not very hard.

“Dew-beater dalcop!” the jarvey squeaked when Harriet managed to wriggle her finger free.

“Are they just making these up?” Thomas Wright asked.

“No, no, very old insults those,” Professor Namander smiled.

Harriet looked towards Thomas, but her eyes drifted past him to Draco. To her surprise, even Draco couldn’t resist the charms of the feisty little jarveys. He had three of them tussling around him, fighting with his hands.

She was distracted again by Basheera, who kept dancing around awkwardly as the jarveys tried to scamper under her ankle-length skirt.

“Klazomaniac!” one of the jarveys grumbled irritably as Basheera’s foot pushed it away again before another pounced upon that jarvey, crying out “NAFF MUPPET!”

Neville was doing his best to help, trying to usher the little creatures away from Basheera, but this quickly became a game for the jarveys which succeeded in tripping Neville up. He landed on his backside and was immediately set upon by a handful of the jarveys.

“Not sapient, but clever!” Professor Namander laughed as Neville doubled over, trying to fish out a jarvey that had snaked into the collar of his shirt and was now scampering over his stomach, clearly tickling him mercilessly, as was another that rocketed up one of his trouser legs.

“GOBERMOUCH!” Seamus shouted back at a jarvey who’d just called him ‘loiter-sack.’

This had an immediate effect on the jarveys. They gathered around Seamus at once and were looking up at him with apparent wonder.

Professor Namander smiled. “Seamus Finnegan! The King of the Jarveys! You’ve learned to speak their language!”

Seamus was blinking looking around. “I… dunno anymore, it was just something my great-grandad used to say…”

The jarveys lost interest in Seamus at once and promptly went back to frolicking about the room. They ended up on the shelves, knocking off books. They upended the trash bin. Little by little they wreaked havoc on the room. Harriet was reminded of the incident where Gilderoy Lockhart unleashed Cornish pixies on the Defence Against the Dark Arts room. The jarveys were a much cuddlier and cuter force of chaos, however.

Very few of the students paid much attention to the rest of Professor Namander’s lecture. Harriet vaguely remembered him talking about proper jarvey husbandry, but somehow Harriet thought he was just enjoying letting them all have fun with animals.

It was an excellent lecture that left all the fifth year Gryffindors rather giggly for the rest of the day. Everyone kept throwing old-timey insults at each other in the Great Hall at dinner. Percy and Umbridge both looked distinctly annoyed by it. Professor Namander, however, even under his bushy fake beard, looked deeply pleased with himself, while Professor Flitwick kept sniggering into his handkerchief. Harriet had a suspicion he was in on the joke.

The fun continued into the common room that night. Fred and George were talking with Erica, clearly trying to pick her mind on how to raise jarveys. The chance to profit off of something so perfect for mischief making clearly was not something they were about to pass up.

Everyone was in too good a mood to notice right away when the portrait hole opened. Silence slowly spread throughout the room. Harriet craned her neck to see the source. Percy was in the common room, and he looked livid.

“I want to see all fifth-year Gryffindors outside the portrait hole. Now.”

Fred and George gave Percy the dirtiest looks. The fifth-years exchanged awkward glances and rose, following him from the portrait hole. Once they were all out on the landing, Percy slammed the portrait shut with so much force the Fat Lady almost fell out of the portrait entirely.

“What was that display this evening?” Percy demanded, pacing back and forth in front of the Gryffindors.

“It was just a bit of a laugh,” Ronnie said, crossing her arms.

“You embarrassed me in front of all the other staff,” Percy said. “And you made our house look foolish.”

His eyes turned on Hermione. “You in particular, Miss Granger. A prefect… and you allowed this monkey-business to go on.”

“We weren’t really cursing,” Seamus said. “Just stupid old insults and whatnot from the jarveys.”

Percy snorted. “Yes, Finnegan, that makes it all better, doesn’t it? You heard little fur balls cursing, so it’s alright if you do it too in front of the headmistress and a representative of the Ministry of Magic.”

“Aren’t you a representative of the Ministry of Magic?” Marcus asked, crossly.

“I am a professor,” Percy said. “Fully so. I gave up my position in the Minister of Magic’s office, a prestigious position, in order to teach here at Hogwarts in its time of need.”

Harriet and her friends all exchanged looks. Even Ronnie looked dumbstruck. Percy had willingly given up his position in the Ministry? His greatest ambition? Something was wrong, there.

Harriet was distracted from the rest of Percy’s tirade. It was something about how they should ask “Professor Namander” just how he got expelled, whatever that was about.

Harriet couldn’t care. The Fat Lady was doing something odd. She was standing to the side of her frame, almost as if leaning on it. Every time Percy had his back to her, she would whisper out of frame, as though reporting what he was saying to someone out of sight. Harriet furrowed her brow with suspicion.

Percy sent them all back into the common room and stormed off. Harriet lingered towards the back of the group. Her eyes were fixed on the next portrait away from the Fat Lady’s. As she watched, a figure moved through it, walking away. Harriet froze. The figure had his back to her, but it was clearly a tall, very old man, with flowing snow-white hair, wearing midnight-blue robes.

Harriet stared after the figure. It couldn’t be. Yet who else could it be?

Harriet shook her head and hurried to the portrait hole, catching it just before it shut. As she did, the Fat Lady gave her the tiniest of winks. Harriet didn’t have time to ask any questions, and opened the portrait wide, climbing inside.

Once in the common room, it was clear Percy’s little show of authority had very little impact on anyone. Hermione looked slightly abashed, but she took even the slightest insinuation she had done something wrong or unfitting deeply personally.

“Forget about him,” Fred said to the fifth years in an uncharacteristically supportive way. “We’ll deal with him…”

“Yeah,” George agreed. “If he thinks you lot saying kiddie curses around the school is bad…”

“He’s got another fucking thing coming,” Fred growled.

### * * * *

The portrait hole swung open quietly. Harriet stepped out silently wearing some of her soft-soled shoes, having learned her lesson in stealth from Castillon back in Avalon. The Fat Lady sighed resignedly. She’d clearly long ago accepted the fact that Harriet was going to sneak out at night.

“Out again, Miss Potter-Dusk?”

“Sorry,” Harriet whispered. “Need to try and find him… Oh, thank you for saying Potter-Dusk.”

“You’re welcome, dear. Do be careful. He’s expecting you.”

Harriet blinked. He’s expecting her?

“Two flights down. The secret tapestry to the hospital wing.”

“Thanks,” Harriet said, hurrying off down the staircase, hopping the false step, her invisibility cloak fluttering around her.

She skidded to a halt in front of the tapestry. She pulled out the Marauder’s Map, checking it again. There was no one anywhere nearby. Excellent.

Harriet hid the map away again and pulled the tapestry aside. She slipped into the secret passage, sneaking along. She didn’t know why she was still trying to be so quiet. There was no one else in the passage, per the Marauder’s Map.

“Too far,” a familiar, yet still somehow unexpected voice chortled.

Harriet almost leapt clean out of her skin, yet she still grinned, stepping back and seeing a portrait in a little alcove. Even in the darkness of the passage, the smiling, welcoming figure of Albus Dumbledore was unmistakable.

“Professor Dumbledore!” Harriet declared, lifting the cloak off herself.

“Almost,” the portrait smiled. “An admirable facsimile, no doubt, but facsimile all the same.”

Harriet was still grinning.

“What’s happening? What’s the Order up to? What’s the Ministry doing here at Hogwarts!”

The portrait of Professor Dumbledore gave Harriet a sad smile. “Alas, I cannot say. Order meetings do not take place in the headmistress’ chambers.”

Harriet’s mood deflated slightly.

“I have been sent to speak to you by Professor McGonagall,” the portrait said.

“Really?” Harriet asked. “Why didn’t she just come to me herself?”

“Because Hogwarts is indeed being watched by the Ministry, as is everyone in the Order. Professor McGonagall does not wish to give the Ministry any more reason to suspect you of anything than they already do.”

“Fair, I suppose…” Harriet muttered.

Harriet shook her head. “You left so abruptly, when were you made?”

“My inspiration left quickly,” the portrait corrected. “All headmasters and headmistresses of Hogwarts have their portraits made when they assume the office. This way we portraits can learn from our true forms, how to properly imitate and think as our inspirations do.”

“I see…” Harriet furrowed her brow.

“We portraits are the barest of shadows of our original forms,” the portrait continued to explain.

“Then how did the portrait of William Shakespeare down in Avalon know so much about his real form?” Harriet asked.

“Likely he was coached and taught,” portrait Dumbledore said sadly. “As we all are.”

Harriet felt as though she were deflating. This wasn’t nearly as uplifting a discussion as she’d hoped.

 “Professor McGonagall has an urgent message for you,” portrait Dumbledore said.

“What is it?” Harriet asked.

“Do not trust Dolores Umbridge,” portrait Dumbledore said, looking at Harriet seriously over his half-moon spectacles. Even in portrait form, Dumbledore’s eyes were piercing, making Harriet feel x-rayed.

“Nor trust Professor Weasley. When you are in Dolores Umbridge’s office, accept nothing she gives you. Be polite, be cordial. Give her no reason to suspect you. You are but a mere student trying to live your life. Is that understood?”

Harriet felt even more put off. It was strange hearing Professor Dumbledore speaking that way. The voice was Dumbledore’s, but the words were Professor McGonagall’s.

“Understood,” Harriet replied.

“Excellent,” portrait Dumbledore smiled again, serenely.

Harriet stared back at the portrait, her mind still whirling with questions.

“Do you know how the Pensieve works?” Harriet blurted out.

The portrait form before her raised his eyebrows. “As a matter of fact, I did overhear.”

“How?” Harriet asked, stepping closer. “I used the one Pro—real you—gave me, and I just took random memories out of Finn’s jar, but… they didn’t feel random…”

“Powerful memories, were they?” portrait Dumbledore asked, studying Harriet’s face.

“Yes.”

“When memories are stored in a container outside of the mind, the most powerful tend to come to the top. Upon being placed inside the Pensieve itself, the viewer will see them in chronological order.”

“That makes sense,” Harriet mused. “How do I get more specific memories?”

“Alas, you must explore them and have them clear in your mind when you remove them from their container.”

“The real you said that memories can’t just be put back in… that the mind isn’t a puzzle.”

“It is not,” portrait Dumbledore confirmed. “Such memories are not true memories. They are snapshots of the memories. Glimpses into the past. They contain the details we ourselves were not conscious of at the time; even the details we were not paying direct attention to. They contain the details that were picked up by our senses, hearing, sight, et cetera, that we tuned out.”

Portrait Dumbledore began pacing. “In the case of an event such as Obliviation, the memories are erased from the mind. New memories are then formed, replacing them. This is why erased memories cannot be replaced by copies of them if too much time has passed. That is also why those who have been Obliviated are so susceptible to post-Obliviatory suggestion; being able to plant false memories. The mind, not remembering the true events, cannot tell the difference between true and implanted memories, and accepts the new information as though it had always been there.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. “That makes sense, too…” something else occurred to her. “Holly Cambridge said she thinks someone’s messing with the memories of the former Rathlin students.”

“Professor McGonagall is also suspicious of this. Bear in mind that methods of memory modification are not limited to Obliviation. Hence her dire warning to you not to accept anything, particularly no drinks, that Dolores Umbridge offers you.”

“She thinks it is Umbridge?”

“She is the most likely suspect, yes,” portrait Dumbledore confirmed. “But be careful. Dolores Umbridge is cleverer than she seems. She will try and get you on her side and will be willing to give you any bait in order to do so.”

“Why me?” Harriet asked.

Portrait Dumbledore smiled. “You are Harriet Potter… you are a symbol of hope. Who else could turn one of Lord Voldemort’s most devoted followers, or cause the real Albus Dumbledore to abandon his beloved school and home to correct his most dire mistake?”

Harriet stared. Portrait Dumbledore sighed sadly and turned, striding out of the frame.

“No!” Harriet said, running up to the frame, as though she could peer into it after him.

“Professor Dumbledore?!” Harriet shouted. “Come back! What’s the real you doing? Professor Dumbledore!”


	20. The Fateful Friday

**Chapter 20**

 

# The Fateful Friday

 

“Our minds are still a mystery to us. How our thoughts form, and why our dreams are so significant. To tamper with thought, in any way, can change the very fabric of our being.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet was miserable in her exhaustion. She hadn’t managed to fall back to sleep after her excursion. How could she?

What was Dumbledore doing? His big mistake was letting her stay at the Dursley’s, wasn’t it? That was already fixed.

There was also everything that the portrait had told her about memories. So she couldn’t just take the memories out at random, then. She had to know what memories she was looking for. Did this mean she would have to explore more of Finn’s memories on her own before they can try to help him remember?

Harriet must have looked so awful that even Hermione, who would sooner die than miss a class, suggested that Harriet take the day off. For some reason, Harriet couldn’t bring herself to do so. She almost felt defiant, as though she could show herself up by overpowering her exhaustion.

Fern tried telling Harriet that she would feel better after her counselling session with Umbridge. It took every ounce of Harriet’s concentration to put a smile on her face and pretend to be excited about it. Fern didn’t seem entirely convinced but said no more on the matter.

Harriet regretted not skiving off class almost instantly when they arrived at Potions. It was another double class that morning, meaning she would spend a total of three hours with Professor Snape that day, including that night’s Occlumency lesson.

The Slytherins didn’t help. While Dora and her handful of Slytherin friends were alright, the rest were still just as competitive with Gryffindor house as ever. The fact that Gryffindor needed a new Keeper was now common knowledge, and they were wasting little time in taunting the Gryffindors over having no hope of replacing Wood.

They were merciless in particular while waiting for Double Potions to start, gossiping about the Gryffindors openly.

“Their best players were Wood and Potter, and neither’s saying much,” Pansy boasted. “Potter’s nothing without a decent broomstick.”

Usually, Harriet could let such taunts slide off her back without caring, but she was having a harder time than usual. Scott was in trouble. Colm was in trouble. Fern was in trouble. Finn was in the most trouble of all. Harriet had to walk into the lion’s den. She couldn’t sleep. Now she had Potions and Occlumency. She mostly just wanted to punch Pansy, Pixie, and Zabini right in their smug faces.

“Now, now,” Zabini said, looking at Harriet with mischievous, glinting eyes, “she’s certainly proven her own. And is full of ample little charms…”

Pansy and Pixie gave Zabini the same disgusted look Harriet gave him.

“Is he for real…?” Tori asked, glowering.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “I think so…”

The door opened and the students filed inside. Once Harriet sat down, her eyelids felt as though they quadrupled in weight. She could barely hear a thing Professor Snape was explaining about their potion. She was vaguely aware that this was a bad thing, as they were learning venom antidotes.

Harriet squinted trying to read the board. Her eyes were having trouble focusing.

“Miss Potter…”

The chilling sound of Professor Snape’s voice cut through the air with the sharpness of a razor. Pansy and Pixie were looking over with indecent glee.

“Are you ill…?”

Harriet swallowed looking up at him.

“No, Professor… I haven’t been sleeping well…”

Harriet didn’t want to make excuses, but she was too tired to think of anything else to say.

“Clearly. However, venomous beasts and beings do not wait for you to be properly rested, and venoms care not one groat how well you are feeling.”

“No, sir…”

Harriet hit a scowl. On the one hand, this was the most attention Professor Snape had ever given her in Potions class. On the other, he was still a git.

“You have not stoked your flames hot enough, nor did you stir the correct amount of times, and you stirred clockwise instead of anti-clockwise. This antidote is worthless, Potter. You will start again and remain after class until you have completed the antidote properly.”

Professor Snape moved away. Harriet bitterly began redoing the antidote. She was still having a hard time concentrating, though it was now because she was frustrated rather than her exhaustion.

Class ended while she was still stirring. Her friends gave her sympathetic looks before heading out into the hallway. Harriet knew they would wait for her, which cheered her slightly.

The moment the door closed, Professor Snape flicked his wand. Harriet wasn’t sure what he did, but he approached her.

“Professor McGonagall has requested I give you more warnings, Miss Potter, about your impending meeting with Dolores Umbridge.”

Harriet blinked.

“Continue making your potion, Miss Potter,” Professor Snape ordered. “The fact you did it incorrectly was a convenient excuse to give you this warning in private; it does not excuse you from needing to do the proper coursework.”

“Yes, sir,” Harriet said, trying to keep the bitterness out of her voice.

“The Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix are directly opposed, Miss Potter. Sources within the Ministry confirm that Dolores Umbridge was placed here as a spy by the Ministry.”

“What about Perce—Professor Weasley?”

“We are not sure,” Professor Snape replied. “We suspect him, he has been close with Umbridge, yet he fully resigned his Ministry post to come teach here at Hogwarts.”

_So that was true_ , Harriet thought.

“Do not trust Dolores Umbridge. She has managed to fool and charm far older and cleverer witches and wizards than you. She seems to have systematically brainwashed hundreds of children into borderline devotion to the Ministry. She is a threat.”

“I know, sir,” Harriet said.

“We are concerned you don’t,” Professor Snape said. “You have done a great many things, admirable things, but at every step, you have had someone watching over your shoulder. You will be completely alone in the company of Dolores Umbridge.”

Harriet thought hard.

“If she’s brainwashed the Rathlin students…”

“It means almost nothing,” Professor Snape cut her off. “We have no evidence of any true wrongdoing. It is only our speculation based on the evidence we have seen.”

“But it’s illegal…”

“Is it?” Professor Snape raised his eyebrows. “And if she did so under the orders of the Minister himself, who seems content to change and make-up new laws on a whim to keep power? Who may very well have been the one who gave Umbridge those orders?”

Harriet’s dislike of Fudge increased at once.

“What about Captain Kane and his mission?” Harriet asked. “Shouldn’t he be able to do something?”

“His mission is to get to the bottom of what happened on Rathlin Island to international students,” Professor Snape said. “What Britain does to its own citizens, I’m afraid, is outside the scope of his objectives.”

Harriet felt bitterness towards Captain Kane grow as well.

“This is also why it is critical you master Occlumency, Potter,” Professor Snape said. “Umbridge is unlikely to leave this as a one-time event. She is liable to attempt to use Legilimency on you if she thinks she can get away with it. There is also the potential she will use Veritaserum, and so—”

“Don’t accept any drinks,” Harriet said. “The portrait of Professor Dumbledore warned me.”

“Do not interrupt me,” Professor Snape said, coldly.

“Sorry, Professor.”

Professor Snape sniffed.

“Finish your antidote, Potter,” he said curtly, turning and striding away. “You have been warned…”

### * * * *

Defence Against the Dark Arts had been Harriet’s favourite class for the last two years. She’d even beaten Hermione in the final exam of their third year. Now, under Captain Kane, Harriet wasn’t so sure. Their first week had been very repetitive so far.

Granted, most of the class undoubtedly needed accuracy practice, but Harriet didn’t know why she was being held back to their standard. She proved in every class she was way ahead of them all. She could cast a corporeal Patronus, even.

On top of this, Harriet was now frustrated with him over the Rathlin affair. So he was only here to get the Ministry over what happened to Americans and other non-British students? No one cared what Britain’s magical government was doing to its citizens? Did that mean he was just using the Order of the Phoenix all this time?

“Yes, Miss Potter?” Captain Kane asked as she walked up behind him while he was resetting the shooting gallery. “Good job today, by the way.”

“Sir, I just wanted to ask—thank you, sir—how long are we going to focus on these fundamentals?” Harriet asked.

Captain Kane gave her a surprisingly pleasant look. “Till everyone’s on the same page.”

Harriet blinked. “How long will that be?”

“We’re getting there. Got to get a few of you a bit more confident, but you Gryffindors are top of the year, I’ll say. And you’re definitely top of this class.”

Harriet didn’t say anything. She hadn’t expected the praise.

Captain Kane chuckled. “You’re an achiever, Potter.”

“Sir?”

“You want to prove yourself,” Captain Kane said as he started back to the school. “Coming?”

“Oh, yes sir,” Harriet said, following.

“You’ve got talent, but you’ve still got a ways to go. But that’s okay; you’re fifteen.”

Harriet gave him a dark look behind his back. Somehow, Captain Kane seemed to know and stopped. He turned and knelt down just enough to look Harriet straight in the eyes.

“An army is only as good as its weakest link.”

Harriet stared back at him.

Captain Kane stood and checked his watch. “Think on that, Potter. It’s an important lesson in the army.”

Captain Kane lowered his hand and looked down at Harriet. “Furthermore, don’t trust Dolores Umbridge. Don’t put yourself in danger. My mission will deal with her.”

Harriet stared. Did he know what she was thinking? Was he using Legilimency on her right now? The times that Professor Snape had performed Legilimency on her, she was fully aware of what was happening. On the other hand, whenever Harriet did her unwilling Legilimency, people weren’t aware she was doing it.

Not only that, but Captain Kane was focusing on Umbridge, as well? Everyone was suspicious of her, it seemed. It could only be a matter of time.

Captain Kane gave her a rare smile and a wink. Despite her discomfort and worry, the improvement to his features the smile performed was so remarkable Harriet entirely forgot them. He looked so handsome at that moment Harriet found herself slightly dumbstruck, and her belly felt as though it were floating.

He turned and resumed walking towards the school. Harriet remained, watching him go. Her friends were nearby, still waiting. She joined them, her head low, thinking.

“What was that about?” Kieran asked.

Harriet stopped short. She couldn’t tell him. Scott was friendly with Colm, who was likely being brainwashed by Umbridge. He might say something to Scott, who might say something to Colm, who might say something to Umbridge. There was also his blossoming romance with Fern. What if he said something to Fern, who would undoubtedly say something to Umbridge?

“Just impatient about lessons,” Harriet said. “Ready to move onto real stuff.”

“Me too,” Ronnie agreed. “Mind you, I’m way better at spell accuracy than I was, and it’s only been a week!”

They began heading up to the school. Hermione hung back with Harriet, whispering. “This is two classes in a row you’ve either been held back or stayed back… what’s going on?”

“Professor Snape warned me about Umbridge,” Harriet whispered back. “Captain Kane’s suspecting her too.”

Hermione grimaced. “This is getting complicated…”

“I know,” Harriet admitted. “How do we work with this without Kieran knowing…? Or Scott, or Fern…”

Hermione shook her head. “We have to do the best we can… for their sakes.”

Hermione gently took Harriet’s hand in hers. Harriet squeezed Hermione’s hand back, and they made their way back up to the school following the others.

### * * * *

Harriet spent the rest of the afternoon trying to put Captain Kane’s words out of her mind. _‘An army is only as good as its weakest link,’_ what did that mean? Well, Harriet knew what it meant, but why would he tell her that? Was he calling her one of the weak links? No, he’d just called her the best of the year.

She was making her way down to Ursula Hall. She was taking deep, calming breaths. This was it. She had to be careful. She couldn’t say anything to incriminate her friends. She couldn’t tell Umbridge anything, yet Umbridge would undoubtedly be trying to get information out of her.

Umbridge’s office wasn’t inside the main entrance to the new hall. It had its own separate entrance to the side. As Harriet knocked, she couldn’t help but feel as though she was about to walk into a serpent’s lair.

Or perhaps, a frilly, ornamental china-plate kitten den, with a disturbing amount of pink?

The entire room was pink from floor to ceiling. There were frilly lace doilies under every vase and candle-stick. The curtains were also made of frilly-lace. Every wall was covered in row upon row of china plates adorned with little painted kittens enchanted to play around with balls of string and otherwise be sickeningly cute.

“Have a seat, Miss Potter.”

Harriet jumped a little. She hadn’t noticed Umbridge sitting in a comfortable, overstuffed armchair by the fireplace. She was so squat, and her pink cardigan blended in so well with the surrounding décor that Harriet completely missed her.

Harriet made her way over, sitting in the chair across from Umbridge. Harriet felt uneasy being so close to Umbridge. Sebastian was half a cat, and his smile was infinitely sincerer than the one Umbridge was giving her.

Harriet’s hands were sweating a little. How was this going to go? She couldn’t trust Umbridge.

“So, Miss Potter, Professor Weasley gave me a very troubling report on your behaviour.”

Harriet fought back a scowl.

“Would you care for some tea?” Umbridge offered.

_Accept nothing Dolores Umbridge gives you._

“No thank you,” Harriet said politely.

It hit Harriet at once. The mixed sensations of disappointment and frustration were unmistakable. Harriet certainly wasn’t disappointed (though she’d definitely been plenty frustrated). It could only be Umbridge. Harriet fought back a little smile. Maybe Legilimency wasn’t such a bad thing after all? The portrait Dumbledore and Professor Snape had both been right not to accept a drink from her.

“Well then,” Umbridge continued. “You have certainly had a rough year, dear.”

_Understatement_ , Harriet thought.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Please, dear, call me Dolores,” Umbridge smiled toothily with as much sincerity as Gilderoy Lockhart had ever managed.

“Sorry,” Harriet said. “Yes, I have.”

_Right, like I want to be on a first name basis with you_ , Harriet thought.

“Is there anything you would like to talk about first?” Umbridge asked.

“Not really,” Harriet admitted. “I’m just here because Professor Weasley suggested it. I have a counsellor already.”

Umbridge’s smile remained forced. “I see. You have a history with Professor Weasley, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Harriet confirmed. “I’m friends with the Weasleys.”

There was no point denying that Harriet thought.

“I’ve stayed at his house lots of times.”

“And how did you find Professor Weasley in that time?” Umbridge asked.

Harriet blinked. This wasn’t at all what she was expecting. She didn’t precisely know what she was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

“He was… stuffy,” Harriet admitted. “Always had a pretty high opinion of himself, but he was a prefect and Head Boy.”

Umbridge jotted down on her clipboard as Harriet spoke.

“Excellent. As Professor Weasley recommended me to you, I just wanted to be sure of the nature of your relationship. To get your side of the story, see if there might be any conflicts.”

Harriet shrugged. “I wouldn’t say conflicts. We’ve never really gotten along great, but there are those who’ve had worse run-ins with him.”

“I see,” Umbridge said, scribbling more. “And who with?”

Caution washed over Harriet, again. She thought, hard. She had to keep playing along, but she couldn’t implicate any of her friends, like Marcus.

“Well, he did get into a few arguments with Ben Jackson, he was one of the Americans.”

Umbridge nodded politely. “And yet Professor Weasley himself recommended Mr Jackson take his place as Head Boy the following year?” Umbridge said.

Harriet fought back a shiver. There was something hungry and sly in Umbridge’s voice. It was the same tone she had during Sirius’ trial whenever she thought she’d caught someone in a lie.

Harriet shrugged. “I guess they got over it. Just what I remember.”

Umbridge smiled unpleasantly. “Well then, if that is all, let us get down to you, Miss Potter.”

Harriet’s sense of foreboding rose. She suddenly wished she had proper control of her Legilimency, so she could get a grasp of what Umbridge was after.

“So much unpleasantness,” Umbridge said sadly, shaking her head tutting. “The terrible events of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, then that awful attack by those Muggles…”

Harriet felt another shiver at the way Umbridge said ‘muggles’. Her dislike for Umbridge rose. Yes, Dudley’s old friends were terrible people, but they were muggles who were bad, not bad because they were muggles.

“I must say you have managed to pull through quite well,” Umbridge said. “Do you feel up to discussing any of those terrible events?”

Harriet shrugged. “Dunno, not really…”

“I see,” Umbridge said. “Then getting to the incident in Professor Weasley’s class, you said, quote: ‘Yeah, I’m not dangerous, I’m just Confunded or something’?”

“I… sounds right,” Harriet said.

Harriet puzzled over this. That did sound exactly like what she’d said. Had Percy written down what Harriet said verbatim? How did Umbridge have that much detail?

“Was that in reference to the reports that you were, or are, being controlled by Solomon Kinney?” Umbridge asked.

Harriet grimaced. “Yeah… Professor Weasley mentioned something about it in _The Daily Prophet_ over the summer…”

Harriet studied Umbridge. Did this mean Umbridge didn’t think Harriet had been Confunded? Harriet internally slapped herself back to her senses. Umbridge worked for the Ministry, right in Fudge’s office. She had to know Harriet wasn’t genuinely Confunded.

Don’t trust her, Harriet told herself. Professor McGonagall sent the portrait of Professor Dumbledore to warn her not to trust Umbridge.

“That had to have made you feel simply awful,” Umbridge said. “After the nasty things written about you during the Tri-Wizard Tournament…”

Harriet’s hands were suddenly fidgety. This wasn’t how she expected Umbridge to be at all. Maybe Fern was right? Harriet’s instincts were telling her to be cautious, but Umbridge was perfectly polite.

_Do not trust Dolores Umbridge._ Harriet let the words wash over her again, reminding her. What was she going to do?

“Yes, it did,” Harriet admitted.

Professor Umbridge’s unpleasant, toad-mouthed smile grew nastily.

### * * * *

Harriet was early to the changing rooms. She was feeling even worse. The meeting with Umbridge had not gone at all the way she planned. She wasn’t sure what she’d accomplished with Umbridge; if anything. She just answered Umbridge’s questions to the best of her ability.

Harriet looked around. As far as she could see, she was the only one there. It would give her hopefully a few minutes alone to clear her mind.

Harriet began to change into her robes. She felt at home as she put them on. She hadn’t played Quidditch since their third year. She hoped she still had her touch.

Harriet jumped as there came a sound from the captain’s office. Harriet peeked around the row of lockers to see Angelina stepping out of the office, her nose buried in Wood’s old notes and playbooks.

Harriet stepped out into the open. Angelina jumped catching sight of Harriet.

“Merlin’s beard,” Angelina said, clutching the front of her robes. “You scared me.”

“You scared me first,” Harriet said.

Angelina caught her breath and brushed back her long, braided hair. “Sorry, I’m a bit distracted… trying to wrap my mind around this captain lark.”

The pair stood in silence for what felt like a full minute. Angelina looked anxious, fidgeting with her notes.

“Hey, Harriet… can we talk? The office?”

“Um, sure,” Harriet said.

They stepped inside, and Angelina shut the door behind them.

“I owe you a huge apology,” Angelina said immediately after the door clicked.

She wasn’t looking at Harriet, but Harriet could feel her pain and guilt as palpably as though they were her own.

“Oh, Angelina…” Harriet said.

“I was a bitch to you all last year over Fred… and it was shitty of me…”

Harriet grimaced. Angelina still wasn’t facing her. Angelina had been cold to Harriet all the previous year, but Harriet had been so busy with the Triwizard Tournament she hadn’t been able to focus on it.

Angelina finally turned around. She had forced a braver expression on her face than her voice had conveyed.

“I’m not exactly good at apologising or admitting when I’ve been a git,” Angelina said.

“Heh, people tell me I need to stop apologising,” Harriet said.

Angelina snorted out a little laugh. “You kinda do…”

Angelina took a deep breath. “Still… I once promised you I’d always look out for you, and I let my stupid feelings get in the way of that, and my jealousy…”

“You really like Fred, don’t you?” Harriet asked.

Angelina smiled sadly. “Yeah, pretty stupid of me, I know. And maybe I’m even worse for only being able to apologise now that things are finally… well…”

Angelina fell silent again.

“But this year, I’m captain. I have to be your captain, and Fred’s. I have to keep my promise if you still want me to… and I have to put these things behind me for the good of the team.”

Harriet smiled in spite of it all.

“It’s fine,” Harriet said. “I’ve been jealous over silly things before, too.”

“Oh, me liking Fred is silly?” Angelina said, sternly.

Harriet’s smile faltered only a moment before she noticed the corners of Angelina’s lips twitching and her eyes twinkling brightly.

“Oh, shut up,” Harriet said, rolling her eyes but laughing.

Angelina laughed too.

“Thanks, Harriet… that means a lot to me. Friends and teammates again?” Angelina asked, holding out her hand.

Harriet smiled and shook. “Friends and teammates.”

Angelina leaned closer to the door, listening. “Think the girls are here. Fred and George will be last… because of course, they will be.”

Harriet laughed again, and they headed out to join the three chasers. The girls chatted until Fred and George showed up right at the last minute. Angelina spared them all a pep-talk, as this was just a try-out. Fred and George, in particular, seemed grateful at this. Wood had seen every chance the team was together as an opportunity to give a speech.

The team headed out into the stadium grounds. All of Gryffindor house seemed to be gathered. Harriet paused in surprise. Even Percy was there, dressed up in red and gold, waving a Gryffindor flag, wearing a Gryffindor hat, and beaming.

“Looks like we got a Head of House just as biased as Snape,” Katie Bell said, sounding impressed.

“Yeah…” Fred and George muttered, apparently unconvinced. Harriet recalled too well Fred’s words the night that Percy had told off the fifth-years. He was in no hurry to forgive Percy for anything.

Harriet, however, noticed something else that made her appreciative of Percy’s presence. There was a small contingent of Slytherins there as well. They’d intended on showing up to bully and mock the Gryffindors, but with Percy there, they apparently weren’t about to start any trouble.

“Let’s see a good show, Gryffindors!” Percy called out.

Angelina waved at him, smiling. Harriet wasn’t paying attention. She was distracted by the fact that it looked as though every single boy in Gryffindor House not already on the Quidditch team had turned out to try their hand at being a Keeper. Harriet furrowed her brow. Why weren’t any girls trying out? Especially not Ginny, who Harriet knew too well loved Quidditch.

“Oh boy…” Angelina muttered under her breath.

“Blimey,” Fred whispered. “This is going to take all night…”

Harriet grimaced. It was going to take forever to get through all these candidates.

“Right,” Angelina called out. “Let’s thin the herd a bit. All first-years, bugger off.”

Grumbles of agitation greeted Angelina’s proclamation, but reluctantly all the first-years began wandering off dragging the school broomsticks they’d borrowed, heading towards the stands.

Her curiosity over Ginny’s absence was replaced at once with the surprise of a face she recognised all too well. It was Kieran.

“Kieran!” Harriet grinned.

He flushed a bit, shrugging and holding up his broomstick with the kickstand fitted. Harriet’s grin only grew. If Kieran won, she’d finally have a real friend on the team. Harriet pondered that, looking around the rest of her team.

She was relatively close with her team, but she never really spent any time with them. Not even Fred, who she only spent time with during their brief romance the previous year. Having Kieran around would give her someone to talk Quidditch with off the pitch, and someone to laugh with on the pitch.

Angelina was now walking up and down the row of candidates. She seemed to be sending off anyone shorter than her.

“That’ll speed it up,” George said, sounding grateful.

“Big plans?” Katie Bell asked him.

Fred was eyeing his watch. “Got a new shipment to sneak out,” he said quietly. “Only going to Zonko’s, but we’re fetching a few glorious galleons for it.”

“You’re selling to Zonko’s?” Harriet asked.

“Yep,” George smiled. “They’re doing most of the testing and such for us. They eat into our profits a bit, more than what we’d make just on our own, but they get our name out to a wider audience.”

“We’re hoping we can have proper premises by next summer,” Fred said, adjusting his broomstick on his shoulder.

There was some commotion nearby. Harriet looked around and saw George’s girlfriend, Erica, walking out of the changing rooms. Behind her was a swarm of Gryffindor girls. Harriet recognised Rachel and Tori. Rachel was beaming, bouncing a bit and waving at Harriet. Harriet waved back, noticing the girls were all dressed in athletic clothes, carrying large pom-poms.

“Blimey,” Fred said. “Guess they’re doing their cheer tryouts at the same time.”

“Makes sense,” Alicia Spinnet observed. “We’re in the air; they’re on the ground. No reason we can’t kill two fwoopers with one hex.”

Harriet was scanning the girls trying out for cheer. She grimaced at the sight of Parvati and Lavender amongst them. However, Ginny didn’t seem to be amongst them, either.

“Right!” Angelina called out, having finally whittled the crowd down to a more manageable size. “You’ll each get five chances to block. The best out of five gets on the team. In the event of ties, we’ll have a sudden-death face off. Team, in the air!”

Harriet and the rest of the team acted automatically, swinging broomsticks down, straddling the brooms then kicking off. Harriet immediately felt a thrill as the wind whipped through her hair and rushed past her ears.

She was flying again. This was where she belonged. She couldn’t help but do a loop, grinning ear to ear. Let the Snitch out. Let her show everyone how Seeking is done. Angelina blew her whistle, and the first candidate flew up towards the rings. Harriet was so high she couldn’t see who it was.

“Having fun?” Fred asked from a few meters below.

Harriet smiled, doing a little barrel-roll and swooping down to him.

“For a change,” Harriet admitted. “Why isn’t Ginny trying out?”

Fred rolled his eyes. “Favouritism.”

“Favouritism?” Harriet repeated.

“Yeah,” Fred sighed. “She wants to be a Chaser, not a Keeper, but Angelina’s not opening up any Chaser spots.”

“Oh,” Harriet murmured. “I guess I can see that, but…”

“Yeah, I get why she’s annoyed,” Fred explained. “But I get Angelina’s reasoning, too.”

“What’s that?”

“Well, like Katie isn’t the strongest Chaser,” Fred explained, glancing around to make sure Katie Bell was out of earshot. “But they make a good team. They work well together. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina can read each other well. Ginny’s probably a better flyer than Katie and maybe even Alicia, but will she work as well as a team? I couldn’t say… and I don’t think Angelina’s that willing to rock the boat on her last year.”

Harriet was about to agree when she remembered Professor Robertson’s words from earlier in the week. She had to think for herself, rather than just agree. Yes, Angelina’s reasoning did make sense. At the same time, it wasn’t fair. She didn’t have an answer right now, but she felt a bit better at trying to think for herself about it.

Angelina’s whistle blew again. Harriet began watching, but she could tell this wasn’t Kieran, so her attention wandered again. She watched the cheer try-outs for a bit.

She was surprised to see what Erica was putting everyone through. Her only experience with cheerleading had been the group that cheered her during the Triwizard Tournament, where they mostly just jumped up and down and cheered and shouted.

Erica, however, was presently having them run laps of the pitch. She was smugly pleased to see both Lavender and Parvati lagging near the back of the group.

Some movement out of the corner of her eye called her attention back to Fred, who was still hovering nearby. He seemed more focused on the Chasers, who just scored again on the latest candidate.

“So, joke-shop stuff coming along well?” Harriet asked.

Fred smiled. “Surprisingly, yes. Partnering with Zonko’s was a big boon. We’re still our own company, but they sell our products all around Britain.”

“That’s great, Fred,” Harriet grinned.

Fred smiled more. “Miss talking with you.”

Harriet flushed at once. Fred sighed. “Sorry, trying not to get sentimental. Especially now things with Angelina are finally taking off…”

Harriet did her best to smile. “She’s fancied you for a long time.”

“Well she was shite at showing it,” Fred replied, rolling his eyes.

Harriet looked down at Angelina as she scored a goal easily.

“Maybe she’s just a little old-fashioned and wanted you to make the move?” Harriet suggested.

Fred snorted. “Figures. When will you women learn that we blokes are bloody morons? You gotta hit us over the head with things like that or we’ll never get it!”

Harriet laughed. Here on her broomstick, talking easily with Fred, she felt better than she had in a while. She didn’t have romantic feelings for Fred anymore (though she didn’t regret the late night make-out sessions) but she did like not having to feel awkward anymore.

“There’s your mate,” Fred said, pointing.

Harriet returned her attention to the goal-posts. Kieran was flying up to the posts at last.

“Surprised Angelina didn’t send him off, with that leg,” Fred admitted.

“He’s got the leg-stand on it,” Harriet said.

“He’s better with it than he was at your fourteenth birthday,” Fred said.

“He’s had time to practice,” Harriet said, crossing her fingers as Angelina and the rest moved to the other side of the pitch, getting ready to make their run.

Harriet leaned forward on her broom, moving down closer to see what was happening.

“Go, Kieran!” Fern’s voice rang out shrilly over the din of Gryffindors in the stands. The Slytherins had already moved off, likely disappointed they wouldn’t be able to taunt and heckle with Percy there.

Kieran’s face was scarlet even from here. Harriet groaned quietly. She appreciated Fern’s confidence in Kieran, but she was liable to make him do worse like that, rather than better.

Harriet was tempted to go back to watching the cheer try-outs. They were now doing push-ups. She could no longer see Parvati or Lavender.

Angelina’s whistle blew, and Harriet whipped her head back around. The three Chasers were barrelling down on Kieran. The Quaffle was bouncing back and forth between them. Angelina—Katie—Angelina—Alicia—Katie—back to Angelina. Harriet squinted, as though she was watching a car crash.

They scored.

Harriet sighed, as the Chasers went back for the other end, ready for another attempt.

“Come on; you can do better than that!” Fern called out now. “I know it!”

Harriet sincerely wanted Fern to shut up. Kieran leaned forward on his broom, almost flat on the handle, his head forward, watching the Chasers as they bore down on him once more. Harriet again squinted as Alicia caught the Quaffle and raised her arm to shoot.

He caught it.

Fern, Marcus, Hermione, and Scott were almost screaming with excitement in the stands.

“I knew it! I knew it!” Fern cried out.

Kieran’s face was now grinning. He was suddenly a Kieran that Harriet wasn’t sure she had ever seen before. His face was glowing. He stopped the second attempt on goal, better than any of the others had done so far.

He stopped the third.

The Gryffindors were in the stands were looking excited. Even the cheer try-outs seemed to have come to a pause. Kieran was two for three. Harriet caught sight of Angelina’s face as she passed to get ready for the fourth attempt. She looked as though she was feeling frustrated, surprised, and excited all at once.

“Even in try-outs, she gets miffed over not scoring,” Fred chuckled, watching Angelina go.

Kieran stopped the fourth.

“Three in a row,” Alicia said, flying up close to them as they passed. “He’s tied for most now. One more and he’ll be in the lead.”

“Thanks,” Harriet grinned.

“Kieran! Kieran! Kieran!” the crowd started chanting.

“Guess everyone likes the underdog,” Fred observed, grinning.

### * * * *

Harriet was positively buoyant as she made her way down to the dungeons. Kieran won. He won outright. He stopped four out of five goals. The next best two stopped three out of five. He was the new Gryffindor Keeper. She had one of her closest friends on the team. What’s more, she was on good terms with Fred again.

“You are late,” Professor Snape said stiffly as Harriet entered the Potions classroom.

The sound of his voice dropped Harriet’s jubilant mood a good twenty-five percent.

Draco was already there. He was sitting in a chair, not looking at either Professor Snape or Harriet.

“Sorry, Professor,” Harriet said. “Try-outs ran a bit long.”

“Got a new Keeper?” Draco asked before Professor Snape could express more of his displeasure.

“Yep,” Harriet smiled. “My friend, Kieran.”

Draco nodded, still not looking at anyone. “Cool.”

“Now the frivolous conversation is over, let us get to work,” Professor Snape said dangerously. “Lest we forget that lives, if not the fate of the entire world, hinges on you two properly grasping Occlumency.”

Harriet’s mood plummeted further. How could she have been so happy only a minute ago?

Draco rose to his feet and moved over to stand next to Harriet. Harriet almost flinched, but not because of Draco’s proximity. Despair and loneliness were washing over her.

“Mr Malfoy, control yourself,” Professor Snape said. “If you cannot contain yourself to hide your emotions from Miss Potter’s most basic, if involuntary, Legilimency, you will make no progress against me tonight.”

Draco’s face steeled at once. Harriet felt the despair lift from her mind, though she still rubbed her temple. She gave Draco a sideways glance. What had happened to him?

For their first two years at Hogwarts, Draco had acted as though he owned the school. Then as the years progressed, he became more and more subdued. He now had stopped hanging out with his old friends Crabbe and Goyle, who once upon a time acted as though they lived to serve Draco. Harriet knew he must be barely holding it together with his mother as Lord Voldemort’s prisoner, but his descent had started well before that.

“Focus,” Professor Snape hissed, snapping Harriet back to attention.

Professor Snape passed in front of them. “The key to Occlumency is blocking your mind to the person attempting to penetrate your mind,” he reiterated for what felt like the hundredth time. “This requires complete concentration and control.”

“Yes, Professor,” Harriet and Draco said in unison.

“This is especially difficult for you two, young as you are. You are slaves to your emotions and hormones.”

“How do we put those away then, Professor?” Draco asked. Harriet was sure she detected a note of bitterness in Draco’s voice.

“Control,” Professor Snape said. “You must master yourself. You must accept that this world is bigger and more important than your petty, teenage worries.”

Harriet was sure she was failing at keeping her scowl off her face. Her petty, teenage worries? In the past year, she’d seen someone decapitated, been assaulted and nearly raped by a gang, and the boy who loved her had his memory wiped and was lost somewhere in Ireland. On top of this, she’d just been reminded that the fate of the wizarding world was resting on her shoulders.

“Draco first,” Professor Snape said.

Draco stepped forward, his face slightly defiant.

“ _Legilimens_!” Professor Snape cried without letting Draco even draw his wand, as he always did.

Draco clapped his hands to his forehead. Harriet knew what was happening. He was being forced to see memories as Professor Snape forced his way into Draco’s mind.

Professor Snape withdrew his wand. Draco slumped to his knees, wincing in pain.

“That was worse than the last session,” Professor Snape said curtly. “You did not practice as I instructed.”

“I did,” Draco spat, bitterly, getting back to his feet.

“A lie,” Professor Snape said simply. “Again. Draw your wand. _Legilimens_!”

On and on it went. After putting Draco through his paces for half an hour, it was Harriet’s turn. Draco had eventually managed to throw Professor Snape off a couple of times, but now he was so drained he needed a rest.

Harriet already had her wand out, but she was still apprehensive. Professor Snape was frighteningly fast with his wand, almost too fast to be seen. Bitterly, Harriet appreciated the fact that if he weren’t such a git, and so close to the Dark Arts, Professor Snape probably would make an excellent Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher.

“ _Legilimens_!”

Harriet was too slow. Her mind was racing in a blur of images, recapping the past week. Harriet was holding Finn in her hand about to take off the lid.

Professor Snape shouted in pain. Harriet staggered back but kept her feet. Professor Snape was rubbing his arm, looking at Harriet darkly.

“A Stinging Hex…” Professor Snape said, shaking out his hand. “I would praise you for using it if you had done so intentionally. Instead, you lost control, again…”

Harriet was trying to catch her breath. Professor Snape had almost been about to see Harriet diving into Finn’s memories at the moment it happened. She must have resisted extra hard at that point, even subconsciously.

“Again, Potter,” Professor Snape said.

Harriet was steeling herself. She was feeling angry. Professor Snape had almost seen something very private, indeed. He wasn’t allowed to see that. What else might he see? She gritted her teeth and gripped her wand tighter. Her eyes were on Professor Snape’s wand.

“ _Legili_ —”

“ _PROTEGO_!”

Harriet barely had her wand raised when she cast the shield charm, but it worked. Professor Snape was once more staggered backwards.

“That is an improvement,” Professor Snape said, studying the shimmering in the air that indicated the charm’s location. “You could learn from that, Draco.”

Draco sniffed, bitterly.

“Lower it, and let’s try again. However, while the Shield Charm will work, you need to learn to repel me properly with your mind,” Professor Snape said. “ _Legilimens_!”

Harriet was definitely not ready for it this time. However, she kept fighting, trying to push him out as images swirled and whipped around in her mind. Suddenly, she became aware that she could see Professor Snape. She saw the old courtroom where she had given her testimony for Sirius’ trial, but she could also see the hazy outline of Professor Snape through it. He became clearer and clearer.

Harriet raised her wand again. “ _Protego!”_

Professor Snape staggered again, but this time something strange happened. Professor Snape vanished, but now she was in an old, mouldy looking house where a hook-nosed man was shouting at a woman. There was a little, black-haired boy in the corner, crying. Harriet tried to move to the boy, but the scene changed again. There was a teenage, sallow-skinned boy lying on a bed, shooting down flies with his wand.

Again it changed. Harriet screamed and staggered backwards. She was looking up into the face of Lord Voldemort. His terrible, snake-like face and burning red eyes were looking right down at her. She raised her wand but heard Professor Snape’s voice.

“I followed Dumbledore as you ordered, My Lord,” Professor Snape said.

Harriet looked down and saw him kneeling at Lord Voldemort’s feet. He was much younger, but his pallor was as sickly as ever.

“He spoke with a seer,” Professor Snape continued. “She spoke a prophecy…”

“Continue,” Lord Voldemort said.

“‘ _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies..._ ’” Professor Snape quoted.

Harriet staggered backwards. The classroom came back to her. She was panting, but this time not from the effort. It was shock and rage. Pure, unbridled anger was welling up inside Harriet.

Professor Snape was looking down at Harriet with an expression she had never seen upon it before. It was unmistakable. It was fear.

“You…” Harriet said, clutching her wand tighter.

She was remembering. At the end of the previous year, Professor Dumbledore had shown her a memory of Professor Trelawney giving a prophecy that foretold Harriet’s birth and that she was the one to face Lord Voldemort as his equal.

“You…” Harriet repeated.

Professor Dumbledore had told Harriet that it was Professor Snape, then a follower of Lord Voldemort, who overheard the prophecy, but only the first part. How had Harriet been so stupid?

“You told him…” Harriet said, raising her wand at Professor Snape once more.

“Potter…”

“It’s… your… fault… it’s… _your_ fault…”

“Harriet…” Draco said.

His voice was disarming, but it wasn’t going to work. Not this time. Every dark feeling Harriet had ever had was brimming to the surface. Professor Snape told Lord Voldemort the prophecy, even after he’d been caught. He was the one who gave Voldemort the reason to kill Harriet’s parents.

“I never meant for him to choose your mother,” Professor Snape said.

Draco was looking back and forth between the two, baffled, backing away. Harriet said nothing. Her jaw was locked in a snarl.

It was his fault. It was all Professor Snape’s fault. It was his fault her birth parents were dead. It was his fault she never got to grow up with a real family. She could have had real brothers and sisters. She could have had friends. She’d have never been famous. She’d never have people stare at her forehead. They wouldn’t always be trying to kill her or win her favour. She could have been normal.

He treated her friends poorly. He ignored her. He was Neville’s worst fear. The man before her was a monster.

Harriet’s wand jumped. She didn’t know what spell she’d just cast, nor cared. To her rage, Professor Snape deflected it. She fired another spell, but once more he easily blocked it. The spell ricocheted off his shield charm and smashed into some of his jars of potions ingredients. Sickly, burning smells filled the classroom.

Fine.

Harriet turned, and instead of Professor Snape, she fired at more of his office.

“ _Reducto!”_ she cried.

More jars exploded. Sizzling sounds filled the air as the potions began eating into the floor.

She spun in circles, firing hexes and curses. Harriet was about to fire a final spell when she was walloped from the side. Arms wrapped around her and tackled her to the floor. In her surprise, she dropped her wand. Harriet lashed out with hands instead, scratching at the face of her attacker. Draco cried out in pain.

“Harriet, stop!” he shouted.

Harriet was panting, but she stopped at the sound of Draco’s pained voice. She looked up into his wide-eyed face. He had a series of cuts on his cheek that matched her nails.

“You were going to blow up the whole school,” Draco said, his voice full of shocked disbelief.

Harriet looked around the room. What had happened? She’d only fired two hexes, but nearly every shelf in the room had been smashed. Had she lost that much control?

She was still angry. Angrier than she had ever felt in her life. And yet she was already beginning to feel the first hints of shame.

What had she done…?

### * * * *

Harriet wasn’t asleep, but she was finally alone. In a few short hours, she’d ruined her life at Hogwarts. Professor Snape had summoned Percy. At first, Harriet thought she was about to be expelled.

Harriet wiped her eyes. They were dry, but somehow, she still felt as though there were tears in them. She’d attacked Professor Snape. He deserved it, but she’d lost her cool completely. She’d wrecked his office. She’d attacked him.

She was alone. What she’d wanted for so long, but in no way how she wanted it. She was out of Gryffindor Tower. She was away from her friends. She was in a ‘special dorm.’

It had all happened so fast. Harriet was still trying to comprehend it all. Percy arrived first. That was when Harriet thought it was all over. But Percy did not yell at her. He did not expel her. He summoned Umbridge.

Harriet could still hear her sickly-sweet voice. Harriet was too numb by that point to argue with anyone. She was ushered out of the castle. Umbridge and Percy led her into Ursula House. She remembered seeing Fern in the sort of common area they passed through. Fern looked surprised and tried to speak to Harriet, but Harriet just kept walking.

She was shown to a room on the ground floor. There was just one bed. It had a desk and bookshelf. She had a window which looked out on the castle. She could still just see it in the setting sun.

What was going to happen to her now? Would Professor McGonagall expel her? Would they break her wand, as they had Hagrid’s?

There came a knock on the door. Harriet didn’t move.

“Harriet?”

It was Fern. Harriet still didn’t move. Fern seemed to get the point. Harriet heard no more.

Harriet was beginning to recover. It was Professor Snape’s fault. It was all Professor Snape’s fault. No one made Professor Trelawney give the prophecy. Harriet knew only too well that Trelawney had no control over her seer abilities. She couldn’t blame Trelawney. Nor could she blame Professor Dumbledore, who merely was in the right place at the right time to catch it.

Harriet tossed and turned on her bed. There was another knock on the door.

“Miss Potter-Dusk.”

It was Percy. Harriet knew better than to ignore him. She rose and made her way to the door, dragging her feet a little. Percy had her trunk beside him.

Percy’s face was as hard as he dared make it.

“We have reached a decision, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Percy said.

Harriet couldn’t meet his eyes.

“You will remain here for the time being.”

“I’m not expelled?”

“No, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Percy said. “We understand the strife and pain you are under. Miss Umbridge wants you here for observation.”

“Am I out of Gryffindor House?”

Percy sighed. “Of course not, Miss Potter-Dusk. You are just here for perhaps a few weeks until we’re sure you are adjusted enough to return to the school.”

Harriet’s hands clenched. She was beginning to get angry again.

“I have also decided that… as incredible a Seeker as you are, for the sake of your mind, we are removing you from the Gryffindor Quidditch team.”

“WHAT?!” Harriet shouted.

Percy winced at the volume of her shout, but he did not look at all surprised at her reaction.

“Believe me, Miss Johnson’s reaction was harsher,” he said. “She earned herself a week’s worth of detentions.”

Harriet’s appreciation of Angelina’s indignation on her behalf was fleeting in the wake of her anger. She was just forced to see the moment a target was painted on her and her family’s heads, and now she was being kicked off the Quidditch team?

“We will reconsider this position later,” Percy said. “Once we’re sure you’re properly balanced.”

Harriet was shaking again.

“For the time being, here are your belongings,” Percy said, indicating her trunk.

“So, what, am I some sort of prisoner, now?” Harriet growled.

“No, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Percy said. “Of course not. This is just somewhere quiet where you can relax at night. It’s only been a week, but I’ve heard unending reports of you looking tired, unable to sleep… you can barely focus in classes. You lashed out at Professor Snape…”

Harriet still couldn’t meet Percy’s eyes. Yes, she did want a chance to rest, but not like this. Her anger only grew.

“I want to sleep now,” Harriet mumbled.

“Yes, good idea, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Percy said politely. “You have all weekend here. Miss Mantovani has been enquiring about you, as have your friends. You will be able to see them all weekend, of course.”

“Great,” Harriet muttered.

Percy seemed inclined to let her rebellious overtures slide. Harriet was secretly grateful.

“I will leave you be for the evening,” Percy said.

He turned and started off down the hallway. Harriet dragged her trunk into her room and slammed the door. She paced the floor. She was still angry. So very angry. This wasn’t fair. But she couldn’t tell anyone why she was so upset, or why she had done what she had done.

Harriet, unfamiliar with the room, turned and kicked the bedpost by accident. She shouted in pain and fell back onto her backside on the floor. That hurt too.

She was clutching her foot, looking at her trunk. DIDS hopped off the bed onto her shoulder and began nuzzling his way through her hair. Harriet was staring at the trunk. She needed to escape. Not even here in a private room was far enough away. She’d lost her dorm. She’d lost her place on the Quidditch team. She couldn’t possibly face Professor Snape.

She needed to not be Harriet for a time.

Harriet threw open her trunk. There was Finn, waiting for her. She hefted out the Pensieve. She used her bare hands this time. It felt right, and she didn’t have to worry about being too loud.

The heavy Pensieve thudded onto the floor. She picked up Finn and undid the lid. She remembered the memory of Finn in the fight. Could she find more? She wanted to see Finn angry. She wanted to know he could feel the same. She wanted to connect with Finn, but she couldn’t feel anything but angry.

She focused hard on thinking of Finn angry. She plucked out many more memories this time. At least twice as many as the previous time. They merged and flowed about in their mist-like form. Harriet took a breath and lowered her head to the bowl.

The familiar sensation of being bucked forward and tipped into the bowl came over her. She was half floating, half falling. She landed on her feet. She heard the fighting before she saw it. She wasn’t at Rathlin this time. She wasn’t sure where she was. She looked around until she found the boys fighting. They were much younger, this time. They must still be in Dublin, Harriet thought.

It had worked. The first memory was of Finn fighting. Once more, he was taking on a whole group at once. This time they entirely had the upper hand. Harriet wondered what they were fighting over this time.

There was the shout of an adult. The boys scattered. Finn was left lying on his back, clutching his side where one of the boys had kicked him. He looked no older than eight or nine.

“Finn…?”

It was a small boy’s voice. Slowly, a young boy who could only be Colm stepped out of hiding.

“Finn…?” little Colm asked.

“I’ll show them next time,” Finn mumbled.

“Finn I don’ want dere to be a next time,” Colm said. He had a slight lisp, Harriet noticed.

The memory dissolved. On and on it went. Fight after fight. Finn got better and better with each one. There was something darkly inspiring to it, in Harriet’s mind. She knew she should be ashamed of herself for this, but she couldn’t.

Suddenly, she came to a somewhat different memory. There was no fighting this time. They were in a small room, crammed full of instruments.

“Finn, mate,” one of his bandmates said. “Why do we hafta practice in here?”

“Barely enough room to move,” said the drummer. “And I’m drenched.”

All of the boys were quite sweaty. Finn had even taken off his shirt. Harriet’s cheeks warmed quickly at the sight, but she certainly wasn’t about to look away.

“Jaesus, mate,” the bassist drawled.

Harriet finally noticed it. Finn was covered in bruises.

“Didn’t Howe tell yeh to knock that off?” the drummer asked.

Finn shrugged. “What Howe an’ Colm dunno won’t hurt ‘em.”

“Yeh ever think ye’re in the wrong line of work?” the other guitarist chuckled. “I mean, yeh’d be a hell of a boxer iff’n yeh ever hit back.”

Finn snorted, tuning his guitar. Harriet blinked looking down at the guitar. It wasn’t his normal acoustic one. It was a flashy looking electric guitar.

“S’pose I could, probably be more money in it, aye?” Finn chuckled. “Maybe in another life…?”

Harriet’s eyes snapped open. Finn could fight. He was a fighter. They were looking for a singer. Someone singing. What if he wasn’t singing? What if he was fighting?

“Try ‘Enter Sandman’ again tonight?” the bassist asked.

“Sounds good,” Finn grinned.

“Feckin’ Metallica again… can’t we try somethin’ else?”

She has a lead. This has to be a lead.

“Everyone else is just feckin’ screamin’,” Finn retorted. “At least Metallica actually sings.”

“Arguable.”

Harriet was flying back upwards. She couldn’t get back to reality fast enough. She flopped over onto her back, staring at the ceiling. Finn could fight. He could be fighting. Maybe she was grasping at straws, but it had to be a lead.

It had to be.


	21. Respite and Revelation

“Retreat is not synonymous with cowardice. War is often about attrition, and you cannot kill your foe if you do not survive.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet couldn’t sleep. She was curled up on the bed, staring at the wall. How could she sleep? She had a lead. At long last, she had a lead. Weak though it was, it was something.

Despite her excitement, she also felt utterly alone. She’d wanted to be alone for so long, yet now she had it, she desperately wanted to be back in her dorm.

The room was too quiet. She could hear her own heart beating in her ears. It was unnerving. She missed Ronnie’s snores. Even back in Privet Drive, she’d had the sounds of Uncle Vernon and Dudley snoring at night, reminding her she wasn’t alone.

There was also the building guilt. She’d learned about Finn, but that hadn’t been why she’d dived back into his memories in the first place. It had been her selfishness. She’d put both the Pensieve and Finn away in her trunk right after, burying them both at the very bottom, both for safety and to cut down on future temptation.

Harriet thought she heard feet just outside her door. Was she paranoid? She must be. She was exhausted. She must be hearing things. What time was it? It was too dark to read the clock on her little bedside table, and Harriet didn’t care enough to bring it closer to read it properly.

There was a knock. Light was coming in under the thick curtains. She must have fallen asleep for at least a little bit. In the lightened room, she could read the clock. It was just after seven in the morning. Harriet ignored the knock. No more came.

Half an hour later, there was another knock.

“Harriet?”

It was Holly. Harriet didn’t want to talk to her. She felt ashamed. She got nothing done with Umbridge, then freaked out. She was useless as an investigation partner.

Useless.

More time passed. The room got brighter and brighter as more light slipped in under the curtain. What was going to happen now? She was starting to get hungry, but she forced herself to remain on the bed.

Just before ten-o-clock, the door practically exploded open. Harriet flung herself out of bed in shock. DIDS screeched and rocketed up the curtains of the window, hissing at the door.

Harriet scrambled, trying to find her wand, but before she could, strong arms embraced her. A strong but soft body held her, silky smooth hair fell against her face, and a sweet smell filled her nose. Harriet recognised all these signs at once. It was Mum.

Mum was home.

“Mum!” Harriet said, hugging her back.

“It’s okay, darling,” Mum said. “I’m home.”

Harriet’s eyes filled with tears and she fought hard to keep herself from breaking down. She was home. Mum was back.

“Come on, darling,” Mum said. “We’ll take you home.”

“It was Professor Snape,” Harriet said. “It’s all his fault!”

There was the sound of hurrying footsteps and Percy puffed into the doorway.

“Mrs Dusk,” Percy said, panting heavily, leaning on the doorframe. “Please understand—”

“I understand you listened solely to one side of the story while giving my daughter no benefit of the doubt, nor cared to hear her side before you locked her away,” Mum said stiffly.

Harriet remembered the gala last spring. She half expected her to punch Percy in the nose. The other half of her wanted it.

More puffing. This time it was Umbridge.

“Mrs Dusk,” Umbridge said, even more winded than Percy. “You cannot barge into my house—”

“You and Professor Weasley forced my daughter from her house,” Mum said. “I am her parent. I am also a professor at this school. I have access everywhere, and I especially have access to my child. She has been put through enough. I am taking her home.”

“I am afraid, Mrs Dusk—”

“Professor Dusk, to you,” Mum said.

Umbridge paused. Harriet hugged Mum tighter. She felt safer than she had in ages in the wake of Mum’s indignation and protective attitude.

“Professor Dusk,” Umbridge corrected. “Under Educational Decree Number Twenty-One, all students of British citizenship are required to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.”

“Attend, Counsellor Umbridge,” came the voice of Professor McGonagall. “Attend, but not live.”

Professor McGonagall stepped into the hallway. Her austere demeanour, always so intimidating to Harriet, now came off like a beacon of hope and power as she looked down her nose at Umbridge and Percy.

“She’s right, Dolores,” Percy said. “Attendance is not residence.”

“Well reasoned, Professor Weasley,” Professor McGonagall said, though she did not sound approving.

“As headmistress, I give Miss Potter-Dusk full dispensation to stay at her family home in Hogsmeade and attend classes until she is deemed fit to return to the school dormitories by a licensed counsellor of my approval.”

“Professor Mc—”

“I am the headmistress, Dolores,” Professor McGonagall interrupted. “That title still means something around here. Decisions regarding our students are ultimately mine. Come along.”

Professor McGonagall turned to Harriet and Mum. Harriet was so transfixed by everything that was happening she barely noticed DIDS hopping onto her shoulder and burying himself under Harriet’s hair, curling up in the back of her collar.

“I shall see you both to the carriage which shall return you home,” Professor McGonagall said.

Mum swished her wand and Harriet’s trunk floated up into the air. Mum kept an arm around Harriet’s shoulder, guiding her from the room. The trunk floated along just behind them.

Harriet glanced sideways at Percy and Umbridge as they passed them into the hallway. Percy looked confused and upset, as though he wasn’t sure how to feel about anything happening. Umbridge, however, was giving Professor McGonagall the same burning look behind her back that she had given Captain Kane during their first Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

“You’re okay!” came a stereo exclamation as Harriet and Mum passed out of the hallway and into the common area.

Harriet was caught in another tight embrace by the twins. There was a hooting twitter, and Harriet felt the sharp, taloned feet of Hedwig land on top of her head.

“I’m okay,” Harriet replied, mostly lying, hugging the twins back before reaching up so Hedwig could hop onto her forearm instead. DIDS hissed a little from under Harriet’s hair.

“We shouldn’t linger,” Professor McGonagall said in a hushed voice, looking back into the corridor where Percy and Umbridge were whispering to each other.

“Come along, girls,” Mum said to the three. “We’re going home.”

Professor McGonagall ushered the four out the front door of Ursula House. As she left, Harriet took a glance over her shoulder. She saw both Fern and Holly. They were sitting on opposite sides of the common area, but both of their worried expressions were identical.

Harriet put them both out of her mind. Everything felt like it was moving in fast motion again. It was as though her mind had checked out, entirely. Her eyes drifted up to Hogwarts Castle. A feeling almost unknown to Harriet came over **her**.

She didn’t want to go back there.

A carriage was already waiting for them. Harriet appreciated not having to walk all the way to Hogsmeade, even if she found the sight of the winged dragon-horses as unsettling as ever. She couldn’t care very much at the moment. She was going home.

Despite the ample seating, the little family was cuddled together on one seat. Harriet sat on Mum’s left, Nan cuddled up to Harriet’s left, while Mum had her right arm around Rosie. Hedwig was nestled in Harriet’s lap. It was then that something finally struck Harriet as she stroked Hedwig’s fluffy wings.

“Where’s Daddy…?” she asked in a cracked voice.

Mum’s lips tightened. “He’ll be along, darling. I’ll tell you everything when we reach Mountain Home.”

The carriage began trundling forward. Harriet tried to ignore the sound of the clawed dragon-horse feet on the ground. She shut her eyes in her exhaustion. The moment her eyes closed, she saw the dragon-horse galloping towards her, a tall, masked rider upon its back, raising an axe high, swinging it down at a huddled crowd.

Harriet gasped and sat upright. Her eyes flung open and her heart began racing.

“It’s alright,” Mum said stroking Harriet’s hair. “We’ve got you. You’re safe.”

Harriet slowly started her breathing exercises. Her heart slowed, and at once exhaustion began to wash over her. She wanted to close her eyes so badly, but she was worried she would revisit the graveyard, or maybe the attack, or some other terrible event.

“What’s that?” Rosie asked, leaning her head out the window of her side.

Harriet heard it, too. Voices. Many voices.

Mum leaned out the window as well. “Oh, for…” Mum trailed off.

Mum quickly opened Harriet’s trunk, drawing out her cloak.

“Harriet, darling, put this on, now,” Mum said.

Harriet was too tired to question. She put on the cloak as told, hiding Hedwig under it as well. The voices grew louder, almost to a fever pitch. Mum pointed her wand at Harriet’s trunk, and it vanished with a pop. Nan shrieked as a man’s face appeared in their window. He had a camera like Colin Creevey’s and with a blinding flash and poof of smoke, took a picture of the family.

“Get out!” Mum snarled, aiming her wand in his face.

The photographer, however, merely looked disappointed and hopped back out of sight. “She’s not in!”

“Mrs Dusk!” exclaimed a woman who appeared in the other window. “Is it true Harriet got into a fight with one of her teachers?”

Another man appeared in Nan’s window. “Is it true she’s been put in some sort of solitary confinement!”

There was an ear-splitting bang.

“CLEAR OFF, YA LEECHES!”

That was Mad-Eye Moody. More bangs followed. Mum took advantage of the chaos to open Nan’s door.

“Inside, quickly!” Mum said.

None of them needed to be told twice. Harriet and the twins hopped from the carriage and ran inside the house. Remus was standing on the front porch, holding the front door open for them. Harriet felt relief as she crossed the threshold. DIDS and Hedwig were both hissing with agitation at the jostling they’d received.

Mad-Eye stamped inside after them. He slammed the door shut, blocking out most of the noise. All of the blinds had been pulled shut.

“That was insane,” Nan declared. “What was that about?”

“The _media_ ,” Moody snarled. “Vultures… absolute vultures! Could have been plenty of Death Eaters and Kinney’s goons hidden amongst them!”

“They appeared out of nowhere,” Remus said. “They showed up only minutes before you arrived. Someone must have tipped them off.”

“Someone in the know,” Moody said, gritting his yellowed old teeth.

“You already know about what happened?” Harriet asked, taking off the cloak. Hedwig hooted with agitation and fluttered up onto a grandfather clock.

“Of course we know,” Moody growled. “In the Order, aren’t we?”

“Oh, yeah…”

Remus gave Moody a cold look. “The Order has already moved to try and cover up as much as we can of what happened. The cover story, for now, is you and Malfoy were serving detention with Severus.”

“That’s it?” Mum asked, disgust in her voice. “That’s the best you could do?”

“That was Minerva’s story,” Remus said, both looking and sounding wounded.

“Sorry,” Mum said, running a hand through her hair.

“It was just to distract the Ministry and the press until a more convincing story could be created,” Remus continued.

“Where’s Dad?” Rosie asked, now.

“I said we’ll tell you at the house,” Mum reiterated.

“We should get out of here,” Mad-Eye said, his magical eye spinning in circles, keeping an eye on the house from all directions. “They don’t seem to be taking ‘no’ lightly…”

“Excellent idea,” Remus said.

He held out a hand. Nan was closest and so took it, much to Rosie’s irritation as she reluctantly took Moody’s gnarled hand. Mum took Harriet’s hand. The three adults exchanged looks and raised their wands.

Hedwig fluttered back down onto Harriet’s shoulder. Mum gave Hedwig a sad smile and softly rubbed the back of Hedwig’s head with a fingertip.

“Sorry, beautiful,” Mum said. “You won’t like Apparition. You stay here and watch over this house for us. If anything happens, you can fly straight to Mountain Home to warn us, and tonight you can come up to stay with us. Is that alright?”

Hedwig gave a dignified twitter and hopped back up onto the clock. Harriet was looking up at Hedwig sadly. She wanted Hedwig around.

Mum took Harriet’s hand again. Harriet closed her eyes. Apparition was not as fun as most of her classmates hoped it would be. Mum swung her arm wide, and at once, Harriet felt as though she’d been stretched into a long, thin sliver, held by tight bands that made it impossible to breathe.

As soon as it started, it was over. Harriet’s feet hit solid ground. She opened her eyes, and warm relief filled her at last.

Harriet was never so relieved to see anything in her life as she was the circular front door of Mountain Home. If she weren’t so utterly exhausted, she would have run for the door. She was leaning heavily on Mum, both for comfort and support.

Remus stepped forward, opening the door for them. Mum hurried Harriet inside slightly faster than Harriet was anticipating and she almost tripped on the oddly shaped threshold.

Relief kept Harriet’s mind buoyant as she looked around the pretty, familiar, and welcoming setting. DIDS scampered down Harriet’s arm and hopped down onto the floor. Harriet smiled sleepily watching him scamper towards her room.

“We should get back to the house,” Remus said. “Before they break in…”

“Of course, Remus, thank you,” Mum said, sounding more relaxed in the safety of Mountain Home.

Remus smiled kindly and closed the door behind him.

“Let’s sit down,” Mum said. “And I’ll tell you girls everything that’s happened.”

“You didn’t go on a honeymoon, did you?” Rosie said shrewdly, studying Mum’s face carefully.

“No, we did not,” Mum said gently, guiding the trio to the sitting room.

“How did you know?” Nan asked.

Rosie shrugged. “Mom doesn’t have a tan.”

Harriet sank into the large sofa, weariness washing over her. Mum laughed softly.

“That’s right,” Mum said. “Your father and I did not have much time to sunbathe where we went.”

“Where did you go?” Nan asked.

“Ireland,” Mum replied.

Harriet’s eyes popped open. “Ireland?”

Mum smiled sadly. “Yes, dear.”

Harriet was staring, her mouth gaping. Why were they in Ireland? There could only be one reason.

“Your father and I went to Ireland to look for Finn…”

Harriet stood. “Mum…”

Mum smiled, rising and taking Harriet in her arms. Harriet knew better than to ask. Mum wouldn’t be saying this if they had found him. But somehow just knowing that they were still looking, still trying to help, meant everything.

“We haven’t found him yet,” Mum said. “But we’re close, we think.”

“Is that where Dad is?” Nan asked. “Still looking?”

“Yes, dear,” Mum replied.

Harriet hugged her even tighter. Mum lifted Harriet’s chin, studying her face closely.

“Oh, darling,” Mum said, cupping Harriet’s cheek. “You haven’t slept or eaten anything, have you?”

Harriet shook her head.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Mum insisted. “We’ll get you a hot bath, then into some comfy PJs, and while you’re in the bath, I’ll make you some nice eggs and toast. You’ll go to bed with a full tummy, clean and warm, safe at home.”

That sounded amazing. Harriet rested her head against Mum’s arm as Mum led her towards her room. The bed looked so inviting that Harriet was tempted to collapse into it without bothering with a bath.

“I’ll let you get to it dear,” Mum said, gently putting her hands on Harriet’s shoulders and kissing her forehead.

Harriet froze. It was the subtlest of gestures on Mum’s part, but the kindest. Harriet threw her arms around Mum again.

“Oh, sweetie,” Mum said softly, hugging Harriet back.

“I missed you,” Harriet said, her voice trembling slightly.

“We missed you too, sweetie,” Mum replied softly.

“I know where Finn might be… or doing…”

“What?”

“He…” Harriet thought. “He might be… fighting…”

“Fighting?”

“Like boxing?” Harriet said, looking up at Mum.

Mum’s brows were furrowed.

“Boxing? Finn…?”

Harriet grimaced. “I… used a Pensieve… It’s a sort of basin.”

“A Pensieve,” Mum stared. “Where on earth did you get a Pensieve?”

“It was Dumbledore’s. He gave it to me so we could fix Finn’s memories.”

“Dumbledore gave it to you? When?”

“My birthday,” Harriet replied. “He sent it in the middle of the night.”

Mum shook her head in amusement.

“Anyway… I… explored some of his memories last night. I was too… I just… needed an escape. But in the last memory, he’d been fighting.”

Harriet sat on the bed. Her legs felt too weak. Mum sat beside her.

“I see…”

“It’s not like that!” Harriet said quickly. “He was defending his little brother. People pick on him because he’s… different. Anyway, Professor Howe caught him and told him to stop. Then last night I saw a later memory… Finn had been fighting again, and one of his friends told him he should box. Finn said something like: ‘maybe in another life.’”

Mum was thinking. Harriet grimaced. “I know, it’s a weak link, but… it’s something, right?”

Mum gave Harriet a sad smile. “It is, dear. I’ll talk to your father and tell him.”

“Promise?” Harriet asked.

“Promise, dear.”

### * * * *

Harriet’s shriek of delight filled the little valley before Mountain Home. Daddy caught her from her running leap outside the front door and spun her around in a circle. The twins collided with them next, and all four collapsed to the grass.

“ACK!” Daddy laughed. “No fair, you’re all so big now!”

“You’re home!” The twins chorused.

It was Sunday morning, just before noon. Harriet hadn’t been up an hour. She’d slept since Mum took her breakfast plate around noon the previous day.

Daddy sat up, ruffling the girls’ hair. “I swear you’re all an inch taller and it’s only been a week.”

The twins’ identical grins only grew.

Daddy smiled more delicately at Harriet. “Hey, Harricane… sorry I wasn’t here…”

Harriet buried her face in his chest as she hugged him tighter. “Thank you…”

Daddy gently rubbed her back, kissing the top of her head.

“We think we’re close…” Daddy said. “We’re looking into underground boxing rings. Problem is… there’s a lot more than you’d expect, and it’s just me.”

The four got to their feet and headed into the house. Harriet kept her arms around him. A tiny, childish part of her mind was afraid he would vanish if she let go.

The family made their way into the kitchen. The table was laden with fresh sandwiches, and there was a steaming kettle of tea on the stove. Harriet’s stomach grumbled. She was still starving.

“So you’ve been investigating underground boxing rings?” Rosie asked with a hungry glint in her eye.

Daddy chuckled. “Yes, sweetie.”

Daddy and Mum exchanged looks.

“What?” Harriet asked.

“We need to have a talk with Rosie,” Daddy said.

“What about?” Rosie asked, sounding guarded.

“It’s alright, sweetie,” Mum said.

Daddy and Mum knelt beside Rosie in her chair.

“Rosie, you know your father and I love you and only want the best for you.”

Harriet exchanged a glance with Nan. She looked just as confused as Harriet felt.

“Yes…?” Rosie said, still defensive.

“We understand you’ve been spending a lot of time with your friend Niamh from Rathlin.”

“Well yeah, she’s like my best friend,” Rosie said.

“We know, sweetie,” Mum said. “But we have been hearing very unsettling things about her house, and the woman who runs it.”

“We’re worried you might tell Niamh something that will get to Umbridge,” Daddy said.

“Like about the Order?” Rosie asked. “Of course I haven’t said anything about the Order!”

Rosie got to her feet. “You think it’s easy? ‘Oh, hello best friend! I’ve missed you _so_ much! We used to share everything, but at the same time I can’t trust you and have to keep things from you!’”

Rosie spun on her heel and stormed from the room. Daddy rose and made to go after her, but Mum put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him.

“Let her cool down,” Mum said, leaning back on the table. “This is hard for everyone…”

“You’re right,” Daddy said, running a hand through his hair.

Harriet and Nan were shifting uncomfortably in their chairs. Harriet knew exactly how Rosie felt.

As a result, a half hour later, Harriet knew exactly what to say when she knocked on the door to the twins’ room.

“What?” Rosie asked through the door. She still sounded angry.

“It’s me,” Harriet said. “Just wanna talk.”

The door opened. “Going to tell me stupid stuff I already know, too?”

“No,” Harriet replied. “At least… that’s not what I’m trying to do… just wanted to talk about it, because I know how you feel…”

Rosie looked away, but Harriet could feel Rosie’s guilt rising and her anger abating.

“Sorry,” Rosie said, backing away from the door.

Harriet stepped inside. Rosie walked over to her bed and sat on it. Harriet joined her.

“I can’t say anything to Scott because he might say something to Colm. I can’t say anything to Kieran, who might say something to Scott, who might say something to Colm…” Harriet said.

Rosie grimaced. “That does kinda suck…”

“I can’t say anything to Fern… because she’s all about Umbridge…”

“I don’t like Umbridge,” Rosie said. “Not really. She’s weird… and kinda creepy… but I’ve missed Niamh so much.”

Harriet put an arm around Rosie’s shoulder.

“I’m proud of you that you haven’t,” Harriet said. “It’s hard…”

“It is,” Rosie said. “Then Dad and Mom talking to me like I’m stupid… like I don’t know better…”

“They’re worried,” Harriet said. “We all are… about a lot.”

Harriet thought. After so much sleep, and good food, her mind was clearer than it had been in a week. The Order was in a particularly perilous position now. They’d taken in Fern over the summer. What had Fern told Umbridge? What had Scott told Colm already?

Harriet’s sense of dread was starting to rise. There was a terrible, dark irony in the fact that Harriet herself was perhaps one of the Order’s most significant vulnerabilities.

“I’m sick of it,” Rosie said, her voice sounding a little choked.

Rosie buried her face in her hands. “I know I have to sound so whiny, but… I just… Dead people have attacked me; my friends have been through hell, and I have to keep stuff from them, and I have to lie to Nan and Emma and pretend, so Niamh doesn’t think I’m abandoning her…”

Rosie took a deep breath. “Life was just so simple before…”

Harriet didn’t say anything. What could she say? Most anything she could think of would probably make Rosie feel even more attacked. Life had never been simple for Harriet, but that wasn’t Rosie or Nan’s fault. That was Dumbledore’s fault, the Dursleys’, and Professor Snape’s…

### * * * *

Harriet was pleased to see that her talk with Rosie did get Rosie to calm down. She apologised to Daddy and Mum that afternoon, and Nan and Harriet gave them space to talk.

Harriet couldn’t help but think about Fern. She must have felt the same way Rosie had when her friends confronted her.

Fern. What was Harriet going to do about Fern? And Scott?

It had barely been twenty-four hours, yet already being away was helping Harriet think straight again. She would be taken to Hogwarts every morning by Mum and brought back every evening.

Nan and Rosie were opting to return to Hogwarts. Harriet didn’t blame them. They had their friends there, and she would still see them in classes.

Professor McGonagall gave Harriet dispensation to remain at home as long as she saw fit. Harriet was not yet sure how long she would remain at home. She was sure she would miss her friends before long, too.

There was something else. According to Remus, reporters and photographers were still hovering around Hogsmeade, trying to get a story. Mad-Eye Moody caught one trying to climb down the chimney. Remus said that Mad-Eye was getting even more irritable than usual, having to remain at the headquarters and guard it all the time. Unfortunately, with his magical eye, and his horde of secrecy sensors and dark detectors, there was no one better for the job.

Harriet would have to face them every morning and evening on her way to school, most likely. Someone had snitched that Harriet was not living inside Hogwarts. It had to be someone in Ursula House unless someone in the castle saw her leaving the school. It was late enough in the day that plenty of students would be awake and could have seen.

Harriet was lying on her bed, listening to Finn. It was about four in the afternoon. She’d just started to get the floating sensation of the verge of sleep when there was a knock on her door. Daddy poked his head in, grinning ear to ear.

Harriet sat up, taking off the headphones. “Something happen?”

“Oh, just a visitor,” Daddy said, eyes twinkling.

“A visitor?”

“Yep,” Daddy grinned. “And a new secret.”

Harriet hopped off the bed, setting the Walkman down. Daddy led her down the hall, but Harriet stopped halfway. She heard a voice. A voice she remembered with deep fondness, but she hadn’t been sure she would hear again anytime soon. The slight hiss was unmistakable.

“SEBASTIAN!” Harriet cried and rushed past Daddy.

Sebastian was indeed sitting in Daddy’s armchair, chatting warmly with Mum and the twins. His smiling, orange tabby face filled Harriet with a joy she couldn’t remember feeling.

“You’re back!” Harriet said, hurrying over.

“I am—goodness, you are a hugger—yes, I am back,” Sebastian chortled.

“How? Aren’t you still wanted by the Ministry?”

“I am,” Sebastian said, his ears drooped a bit, but his smile remained.

“Thanks to the Flamels and the French ministry, we have an extra layer of security to Mountain Home, which allows Sebastian to join us freely, with our Ministry none-the-wiser,” Mum said, her warm eyes bright and twinkling.

“Private Floo channel,” Daddy said, patting the mantelpiece over the fire. “It connects directly, and solely, to one of the fireplaces in the big house at Avalon.”

“Which means it’s an added layer to our escape strategy,” Mum said, more seriously. “You girls remember the original plan?”

“If anything happens we squeeze our little medallions,” Rosie said, pulling hers up from the front of her shirt. “And wait for an Order member to come to us.”

“Or if we’re in Hogsmeade, we go for the fake house,” Nan added.

“Then we Apparate along with the Order members there to here,” Harriet finished.

“Precisely,” Daddy grinned. “So now, when you reach here, you take Floo Powder, throw it into the fire, and step in. You don’t even have to say Avalon or anything like that. Avalon’s the only connection.”

“You girls never feel trapped,” Mum said. “There’s always one more place to go if things go wrong.”

Daddy sat next to Mum. His face was set, but he was still smiling. “We know this is hard on all of you,” Daddy said, looking from face to face. “But always remember we’re here. The Order is here. We have your backs.”

“You’re not alone,” Mum added. “Not even at Hogwarts. Remember you have Professor McGonagall and Professor Spring.”

Harriet noted they left off Professor Snape.

“Yes, Mom,” Nan replied.

Mum turned to Sebastian. “We’ll show you to the study where you and Harriet can have a session in peace.”

“That would be most kind,” Sebastian smiled.

“Would you care for some tea?” Daddy offered.

“That would be even kinder,” Sebastian laughed. “But you don’t need to trouble yourselves.”

“No trouble,” Daddy replied.

### * * * *

Harriet felt world’s lighter. The session with Sebastian had lasted over two hours. She told him everything that had happened in the course of her first week. She told him about Finn’s memories. She told him about her worries about her friends.

She told him about what happened with Professor Snape. Every single detail. Sebastian was trying his hardest to keep himself composed, Harriet could tell. His claws kept slipping out slightly, and only the tip of his tail was twitching.

She couldn’t tell anyone else what had happened, even though she sincerely wanted to. She couldn’t tell Daddy or Mum. They’d kill Professor Snape. Daddy would, for sure.

The part she appreciated most was that he wrote out a note to Professor McGonagall prescribing Harriet one week of bed rest. Mum was going to get all her homework for her so she wouldn’t fall behind, but she had one glorious week away from the strange, new Hogwarts she had returned to. A Hogwarts with new faces, old faces missing, and everyone on edge.

Harriet was lying on her bed. Hedwig had arrived and was sitting on Harriet’s pillow. Her fluffy chest feathers were soft and warm on the top of Harriet’s head as she preened Harriet’s fringe.

DIDS was curled up on Harriet’s stomach, twitching now and then, as if dreaming. Harriet shook her head at the little toy dragon. Since Harriet had time to play with him, he’d started acting livelier again.

There was a light knock on the door. Harriet sat up a little.

“Come in.”

It was Daddy. He had a tray of tea and walked over, setting it on Harriet’s desk and pulling out her chair.

“Hey,” Daddy said gently. “Just thought we should finally have some time to talk.”

Harriet smiled, but she was also worried. She was sure he wanted to talk about what happened with Professor Snape.

“I’m hoping we’re close to finding Finn…” Daddy said running a hand through his hair. “But there are some things I have to be upfront with you about.”

Harriet blinked.

“We’re not sure what’s going to happen with him,” Daddy sighed. “You see… on the one hand, I know how you two feel for each other… which has been tearing me apart a little.”

Harriet furrowed her brow.

“Life’s just so hard for you already… and to have this poor kid added to your worries…” Daddy snorted. “Maybe I'm selfish… just worrying about you. But this kid… you really like him?”

Harriet nodded.

“He came through for my little girl when even I couldn’t,” Daddy admitted. “I owe him for that… but here’s the thing.”

Daddy took a bracing breath. “After we find him, things are going to get complicated.”

“Complicated?”

“You see… The Order wants him because of his memories. So does Captain Kane’s team. As far as we know, he’s the only student who was there where we have unaltered memories of what happened.”

Harriet’s eyes widened. She hadn’t thought of that. Why hadn’t she thought of that?

“We tried to get testimonies from Rathlin students before, but… at the same time we had to keep ourselves secret,” Daddy explained. “We’re in a constant rock and a hard place. The Ministry was keeping a close watch on all the students. Now with Dumbledore gone—wherever the hell he is just when we need him most—”

Harriet’s lips tightened.

“—The Ministry isn’t paying as much attention to us. Which would be good, but since they’re ignoring Voldemort and us, they’re throwing their whole lot in on controlling this Rathlin incident.”

“So that’s why the Ministry is after Finn?” Harriet asked.

“We don’t think they know any of Finn’s memories survived,” Daddy replied. “But the fact he’s not accounted for worries them. So we have an advantage on them there, because we’re looking a lot harder.”

Harriet gave a short laugh. “I guess he’s kind of like Jackson then…”

“Jackson?”

“Another American,” Harriet explained. “The Unionists attacked his town, and both sides wanted him because of what happened… funnily enough, it was Captain Kane who helped him escape…”

Daddy shook his head, chuckling. “That sonu— the guy’s everywhere.”

“Seems like it, sometimes…”

“Guess I see why their president trusts him,” Daddy admitted. “He’s dedicated, but… he’ll do what’s right, I guess.”

Daddy smiled down at DIDS, lost in thought. “Anyway, tomorrow after we take the girls back **to** school I’m heading back to Ireland.”

“By yourself?”

Daddy gave her a sad smile. “Everyone else has business here,” Daddy said. “Don’t worry about me.”

Harriet set DIDS aside and sat up to give him a proper hug. “Be safe…”

“Of course I will,” Daddy said. “Not going to try and find someone for you, just to lose the both of us.”

“Don’t joke about that…”

“I’m not,” Daddy said sincerely. “I’ll find him. We’ll help him. Things are hard, but not everything’s terrible.”

“News to me,” Harriet said, a little bitterly.

Daddy ruffled her hair. “Cheeky.”

Harriet smiled as Hedwig puffed up her feathers in agitation. She’d spent an hour straightening Harriet’s hair.

“Have some nice tea… it has the special potion Sebastian prescribed you in it already. Listen to your music and sleep well, Harricane.”

Harriet smiled, taking the still steaming cup. The scent of chamomile washed over her mind like a comforting quilt of relaxation. Daddy kissed her forehead and strode from the room. Harriet sipped the tea, relaxing.

“Night, hun,” Daddy said.

“Night,” Harriet smiled back.

He closed her door for her and Harriet rose from her bed, stretching. She made her way to her trunk. She was relieved he hadn’t asked about Professor Snape, but she was sure it would be coming soon.

She knelt and opened her trunk, pulling out a pair of pyjamas and the Walkman. She thought and rummaged around for her parchment and ink. She wanted to write her friends a letter to let them know what was going on.

There was the clunk of Finn’s jar in the Pensieve. Harriet closed her eyes. No, she can’t give in. She promised. She had to stop invading his memories.

Finn must know.

Harriet’s eyes snapped open. Finn must know. And so Harriet must know, too.

Harriet hefted the Pensieve out once more. This wasn’t an escape. This was important. Who had carried out the Rathlin attack?

### * * * *

Harriet fell flat on her back. The world was spinning. It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be. But it was.

Her mind was reeling from what she’d seen. Children and teens running everywhere, screaming and terrified. Teachers being disarmed, stunned, arrested if they did not leave. Some, she assumed Muggles, were being obliviated as well. Professor Watkins was doing his best to calm everyone. Where was Professor Howe?

Harriet turned around, back and forth. She couldn’t see Finn anywhere, but he must be close by. There was just so much going on. Aurors were forcing students around at wand-point. It was a nightmare. There was a child who looked no older than seven or eight crying.

Finally, the students were cornered. Harriet now recognised some faces **here** and there. There was Fern. She saw Krystelle and Portia. Where were Finn and Colm?

There! Just behind the group, Harriet saw them jump up. They had slid under a fence. Finn was acting reluctant. He kept looking back, but Colm was frantically pulling his older brother away. Harriet moved to follow. She wouldn’t be able to stay here much longer. She’d be dragged along after—

“Aaben, Emil.”

Harriet froze. She knew that voice. How could it be?

Harriet turned. The sight made her leave the memory at once. The shock launched her right out to reality. She’d spent an hour with her not two days ago. That sweet, simpering, sympathetic voice. All that pink.

Dolores Umbridge. Dolores Umbridge had led the raid.


	22. Help

“People often speak of a light at the end of the tunnel. The truth is, life is not a path. It is not a single road. We are all simultaneously heading down many paths; a winding tree. This means we find ourselves down many dark tunnels at once, which can seem to overpower the light. In all cases, the only way to reach the end of any tunnel is to keep moving forward. For if the feeling of many dark tunnels can overwhelm us, imagine the feeling of reaching the ends of those many dark tunnels and seeing so much light at once.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet did not sleep, but she was not tired. She knew the truth. It was Umbridge.

It all came together, now. Of course, it was Umbridge. She was responsible, she blamed it all on the Aurors, and now was controlling the remaining Rathlin students so no one would know.

Why, though? Why would she do that in the first place? Something didn’t make sense.

She must have done it under Fudge’s orders. That made sense, Harriet thought. Fudge was after anyone too close to Dumbledore, and who was closer than Professor Howe? But was Fudge really so evil as to order the Obliviation of children to get to Howe? Maybe Umbridge misunderstood the orders?

Harriet couldn’t fire off too soon. This was going to take more investigating, and Harriet wasn’t going to solve anything tucked away here in Mountain Home. She knew what she had to do.

Harriet all but stormed into the dining room. The rest of the family, clearly not expecting her, started slightly at her sudden appearance in the doorway. Harriet supposed the fact she’d already showered and changed into her uniform added to the surprise.

“I need to go back to Hogwarts,” Harriet declared.

Daddy and Mum gave each other confused glances.

“Sweetie, are you sure?” Mum said, setting down her coffee mug.

“You’ve earned a rest, honey,” Daddy added.

Harriet didn’t need a rest. She was never surer of anything in her life than the fact she had to get back to Hogwarts as soon as possible. At long last, Harriet had a plan.

“I can’t run away now,” Harriet said. “Plus… I need my friends around… and it’ll be lonely just sitting here alone all day…”

Daddy and Mum exchanged a long look, having an entire conversation unspoken. Nan and Rosie were giving Harriet equally concerned looks.

“I’m fine,” Harriet assured them. “I mean, I still want to sleep here rather than that stupid dorm, of course…”

Daddy and Mum gave each other one last look.

“Very well,” Mum said. “We’ll have a trial today. If at any point you think it’s too much and need a break, use your pendant, and I’ll come take you home.”

“Deal,” Harriet said.

Before anyone could say any more, Harriet was hurrying back to her room. She immediately began packing away her books in her bag. She had to talk to her friends. Harriet spent all-night thinking and planning.

She was done being stupid. She was done being helpless. Dolores Umbridge hurt friends of hers. She was still hurting them.

There was a gentle knock on Harriet’s door frame. Harriet looked around to see Mum standing in the doorway, worry painted on her face.

“Harriet, dear, what’s going on?” Mum asked.

Harriet closed her eyes. Her back was to Mum, so, fortunately, she couldn’t see Harriet doing her best to calm herself.

“I saw something in Finn’s memories. I have to talk to my friends.”

“You explored more of his memories?” Mum asked.

“I had to know…” Harriet admits.

“Know what?” Mum asked, kneeling next to Harriet. “You went to the night of the raid, didn’t you?”

Harriet kept her eyes closed and nodded. She didn’t want the Order to know. She didn’t want them to react too soon. She was having trouble with their judgements lately.

“You saw who it was…?”

Harriet took a deep breath.

“Honey talk to us,” Mum said, putting a calming arm around Harriet’s shoulders. “We’re doing all we can to help, but we can’t if you close up.”

The feel of Mum’s comforting touch made Harriet feel as though she was deflating. She opened her eyes looking towards the ceiling.

“I’m worried about what the Order will do,” Harriet admitted. “If they knew.”

Mum furrowed her brow with concern. The pair looked around at the sound of Daddy’s heavy footsteps coming down the hallway.

“Everything okay?” Daddy asked, stepping into the doorway.

“Yes, darling,” Mum said, hitching a warm smile on her face. “Just getting everything ready.”

“Okay,” Daddy said, his eyes moving back and forth from Mum to Harriet.

He looked as though he wasn’t entirely convinced. Harriet couldn’t look at him. She was looking at Mum, trying to hide her surprise.

“I’m about to head out,” Daddy said, forcing a smile back on his face.

Harriet rose and hugged him tightly. As worried as she was about what the Order, including Daddy, might do if they knew the truth, she still appreciated him trying to find Finn.

“Daddy,” Harriet said.

“Yes, hun?”

Harriet looked up at him. “Promise me something…?”

“Of course, sweetie,” Daddy replied.

He took her hands and crouched low enough to look in her eyes. Harriet was struck with further resentment at how short she was.

“If you… when you find him…” Harriet took a deep breath.

“I’m not going to turn him over,” Daddy said.

Harriet blinked.

“Your father and I talked long and hard about it last night,” Mum explained. “Finn’s been through enough. We won’t turn him over until he’s recovered enough that he can choose to come forward.”

Harriet looked back and forth between them. “But… won’t the Order and McGonagall be upset?”

“Piss on it,” Daddy grumbled. “She listens too much to Captain Kane; I’m getting a bit sick of it.”

“She wants to win,” Mum advised. “Last time you in the Order were entirely alone, and it ended with the attempted murder of Harriet.”

“I know, I know,” Daddy sighed. “Still, we’re better than that.”

“I’m not arguing that,” Mum agreed.

Harriet kept looking back and forth between her parents. She closed her eyes, and let the words flow out.

“I know who did the attack! I saw it in Finn’s memories last night! Umbridge led the Aurors!”

The room was deathly silent after Harriet’s outburst. Even Hedwig and DIDS were staring at Harriet.

“Umbridge…?” Daddy asked, staring.

“That… that vile… that awful…”

“Yes,” Harriet confirmed. “She was the one calling out the names for students to be obliviated.”

Daddy’s hands were shaking, clenched into tight fists. Mum was holding Harriet tightly.

“Why?” Daddy asked, mirroring Harriet’s earlier thoughts.

“I can’t imagine,” Mum said, staring into space, deep in thought.

Nan poked her head into the room, looking apprehensive.

“Everything alright?” she asked.

“Yes, dear,” Mum smiled. “We’re coming.”

Just then the doorbell chimed. It was two long rings and one short one. Harriet had been told that was the code for Remus.

Daddy grimaced. “That can’t be good…”

He and Mum hurried past Nan into the hallway. Harriet was following close behind.

Remus’ face was grim as the door opened.

“What happened?” Daddy asked.

Remus’ grimace grew as he held up a copy of _The Daily Prophet_.

The headline left no doubt as to what the cause of Remus’ dark expression was.

 

_MINISTRY SEEKS EDUCATIONAL REFORM DOLORES UMBRIDGE APPOINTED FIRST EVER HIGH INQUISITOR_

### * * * *

Harriet was still fuming by the time they arrived in Hogsmeade. They apparated to the Hog’s Head Inn, where the barman, Aberforth, was a member of the Order.

She was trying to put the thought of Umbridge now being Hogwarts High Inquisitor out of her mind. She now wished she hadn’t told Daddy and Mum about Umbridge’s role in the raid on Rathlin.

Umbridge was given the power to inspect teachers, and Mum was already on less than friendly grounds with Umbridge over Harriet being removed from the Gryffindor House dorms. What if she said something to Umbridge now and got sacked? Daddy made enough money, Harriet was sure, but what if she confronted Umbridge, now?

Harriet’s worries were temporarily driven out of her mind by the sight that greeted her after the Apparition. The Hog’s Head was indeed completely transformed as Professor Robertson had told her.

The floor glistened. The windows were crystal clear. The table tops shone in the early morning sun.

“Morning,” came a voice from the bar.

Harriet’s blood chilled slightly. She recognised the voice of Hyland Stevens at once. It was the same voice as his alter ego, the ‘split man’, Jerrad.

“Hi,” Rosie grinned at Hyland.

Hyland’s cheeks pinkened slightly.

“Are the stupid reporters still there?” Nan asked, looking around the empty inn apprehensively.

“They are, kind of,” Hyland replied.

“They are mostly staying at the Three Broomsticks,” growled the old barman’s voice from the staircase. “Damned glad about it I must say.”

Harriet tilted her head. The barman looked so familiar, and yet seemed completely foreign to her.

“Indeed,” Remus agreed. “As marvellous as your establishment has become, Aberforth, it is luckily too far away from the house.”

“The Aurors don’t hurt,” Hyland said. “They started keeping a good ways back from the place after they showed up.”

“Aurors?” Rosie asked.

“Aye,” Mad-Eye Moody growled. He took a swig from his hip-flask, which gave Harriet a chill. “They showed up yesterday morning. Showed up with Cornelius bleedin’ Fudge himself. Said he’d heard about the incident at the school with Harriet and wanted to be sure the press disturbed her as little as possible.”

“That was nice of him,” Daddy muttered, his voice full of irony.

Mad-Eye snorted. “He’s either a total idiot or a damned good actor.”

“I wouldn’t say those are mutually exclusive,” Aberforth the barman growled.

Hyland snorted with laughter. It was then Harriet noticed something odd about him. He was drawing, but he didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he was drawing. He was watching the room, but his right hand was working feverishly with a black crayon on a piece of parchment.

“Well we don’t have time to dwell on it now,” Daddy said, peeking out the window as the sound of a horse-drawn carriage came clip-clopping to just outside the door.

“Let’s get into the carriage quickly,” Mum said, ushering the three girls to the door.

Daddy gave them all quick, tight hugs.

“Behave, you two,” Daddy said.

“Yes, Daddy,” the twins chimed.

“Good luck,” Harriet said as she hugged him the tightest she could manage.

“You too,” Daddy said. “Listen, I’m proud of you for wanting to jump in so fast, but if it’s too much, there’s no shame in wanting to wait a week and rest up.”

“I know,” Harriet said, smiling up at him.

Daddy drew his wand, gave everyone one last smile and wave before disapparating. At that time, Mum resumed ushering the girls out the door. Harriet took one glance back at Hyland. He wasn’t watching. Instead, he was looking down at the parchment he’d been doodling on with considerable surprise on his face. He glanced around the room, looking embarrassed before wadding up the parchment and throwing it in a bin.

The door closed, blocking the sight. Harriet, Mum, and the twins climbed into the carriage and set off. They went down the high street. Harriet leaned over to look out the window as they passed the headquarters.

There was indeed a handful of Aurors standing guard outside. Harriet narrowed her eyes. She was suddenly suspicious. Were they there to protect Harriet, or was it an excuse for Fudge to station Aurors around a likely Order location?

They arrived at Hogwarts just as breakfast was ending. The relief and happiness in Hermione’s exclamation of joy made returning to Hogwarts more than worth it to Harriet. It at least helped her put her worries about Mum out of her head.

“We have to talk,” Harriet whispered in Hermione’s ear as they embraced in the entrance hall.

“About the article?” Hermione asked.

“For starters,” Harriet whispered before moving on to hug Ronnie.

They had no time to talk at the moment. It was time for History of Magic.

Professor Robertson certainly had some thoughts of his own on the matter of having a “High Inquisitor”. He spent the entire lesson discussing Grindelwald’s Államvédelmi Hatóság, or ‘State Protection Authority’.

“The… ÁVH we shall call it for short… formed the basis for many secret police around the world, particularly in the Muggle world. In fact, following the Second World War, Hungary’s Soviet puppet regime set up an organisation of that same name.”

“How would Muggle governments pick it up?” Harriet asked, suddenly much more interested in the subject of History of Magic than she could ever remember being.

Professor Robertson’s smile was grim. “Grindelwald was a terribly clever man. He wanted to subjugate Muggles. Why do that yourself, when you can help the Muggles do it all their own?”

“Are you saying Grindelwald was responsible for… the Nazis?” Hermione asked, apprehensively.

Professor Robertson snorted with disgust.

“Responsible, I think, is giving him far too much credit, and taking far too much blame from the likes of the Nazis. But Grindelwald still used it. He planted people to help fan the flames. At the same time, he used the atrocities committed by Muggles against each other to sew mistrust of the Muggles amongst Wizardkind.”

Professor Robertson sighed. “It worked well for a while. Consider, how well could the major Muggle governments face a concentrated Wizarding force? How easily he could gather such a force if he could show how barbaric Muggles were?”

“What stopped him?” Harriet asked.

Professor Robertson’s expression softened. “Many saw through him. Enough, at least. The MACUSA was a major force in that regard. Grindelwald tried to incite the Magical US into anti-Muggle sentiments, but it seems that the Magical US was just a bridge too far, to use the cliché. It was too large and too decentralised and too far away. All Grindelwald truly accomplished was stirring up a hornet’s nest.”

“Go MACUSA!” Tori whispered, still loud enough to be heard.

Professor Robertson chortled.

“Yes, it was one of their finer moments. They launched a heavy propaganda campaign against Grindelwald. It dogged him through the thirties and forties. It kept him from unifying forces. And finally, it came to an end in 1945 with the now famous duel between Grindelwald and Albus Dumbledore.”

“What does this have to do with the…whatchacallit?” Neville asked.

“Because as far as Grindelwald came from his ultimate goals, he still succeeded. He had the ÁVH. In the areas under his rule, the ÁVH oversaw all aspects of the lives of the common people. They monitored communications, they controlled the press, and of course, they monitored the schools…”

The class was quiet, exchanging looks.

“Grindelwald used fear,” Professor Robertson cautioned. “He set up fear of a bogeyman; it was in everyone’s interest that his ÁVH kept them ‘safe’…”

“Sir?” Kieran asked raising a hand.

“Yes, Mister O’Brien?”

“Are you talking about our Ministry, and the High Inquisitor?”

“Am I?” Professor Robertson asked in response. “I don’t believe I named names.”

Professor Robertson sniffed glancing at the clock.

“History is there for everyone to see. Is our Ministry currently using fear to take control of Hogwarts? To take control of your educations? To put pressure on our press to control what the public knows and hears? Those are questions you must always find yourself asking.”

“What about those flyers that were dropped the day we arrived?” Parvati asked.

Professor Robertson’s grimace returned. “That, Miss Patil, is a lesson that often the enemy of your enemy is not, in fact, your friend.”

“So, we’re not supposed to trust anyone?” Lavender asked, sounding annoyed at the prospect. “We’re just supposed to question everything everyone tells us?”

Professor Robertson’s eyes twinkled. “That would be a very good start.”

### * * * *

Harriet had a free period. After the incident with the Occlumency lesson, she was relieved of having to attend Potions for the time being. Her mind full of rebellion, Harriet immediately sought out Holly Cambridge.

She found Ashley first.

“Ashley!” Harriet said, feeling relief as she hurried up to the Ravenclaw just after class.

“Oh, hi,” Ashley said, looking embarrassed. “Look, I’m sorry about the other day, Holly thought—”

“It’s fine,” Harriet said. “Honestly don’t worry about it. That was kind of cool. Did you do that without magic? Sorry, getting off track. Do you know where I can find Holly?”

Ashley gave an awkward smile. “Well, she won’t be back until the evening, but funny you ask, she’s working on her internship at your father’s shop.”

Harriet tilted her head. “Really? She’s one of his interns?”

“Yep,” Ashley replied. “But I can let her know you’re looking for her.”

“Excellent,” Harriet grinned.

She wasn’t able to meet with Holly now, but Harriet now had an in. If Holly were interning at Daddy’ shop, that would give Harriet ample times to meet with Holly completely out of earshot of the Ministry.

“Thanks, Ashley,” Harriet said, waving farewell and setting off down the Charms corridor.

She was curious what to do with herself. She decided to head for the library. Maybe Professor Robertson had some time off, too. She was curious to talk to him about Grindelwald some more, and about Lord Voldemort.

There were older students here and there. All of them seemed to be in a rush, their noses buried in books and poring over stacks of parchment. However, now and then one or two would catch Harriet’s eye. Their expressions often cooled, or they would look away quickly.

Harriet stepped into a side-corridor, processing. Of course, she should have expected this. The story of her attacking Professor Snape and getting kicked out of the Gryffindor dorms would have spread through the school like fiendfyre.

She contemplated taking her invisibility cloak out of her bag to move more secretively through the halls. She still had half an hour until the period was over. She did see Cho Chang who gave her a friendly wave from across the Entrance Hall. Harriet returned it but felt a slight chill at the dark looks that Cho’s group of friends gave Harriet when Cho wasn’t looking.

Harriet was starting to get annoyed. She should have gone to the library or Gryffindor Tower after all. She had a pass from classes; she decided to skive off from Divination. She wasn’t ready to face whatever lunacy Professor Trelawney was going to spew this year. She’d make it up to Ronnie later, somehow.

Harriet just sat on a bench, practising her breathing. She was stronger than this. She knew it. She could handle it.

She must have sat longer than she’d thought, as the bell that marked the end of lessons surprised her. At once the hallway was full of students. The sound was overwhelming. As the students passed, all faces were on her. She could hear their voices talking about her.

And yet, none of their lips were moving.

_“That’s her.”_

_“Harriet Potter.”_

_“Weirdo.”_

_“Attacked Snape; don’t know whether to be freaked out or proud.”_

_“Little freak.”_

_“Crazy or not, I’d do it.”_

_“Bet she’s a freak between the sheets.”_

“SHUT UP!”

It was Harriet who shouted. She was on her feet. The entire hallway came to a halt. Silence filled the corridor. Every eye was on her. She heard the whispering start to grow, followed by sporadic laughter. Then the voices in her head resumed.

Disgust filled her mind, as did apprehension, and fear. Not just that, there was odd, aroused sensations.

_“Fuck’s wrong with her?”_

_“Merlin’s beard, she_ is _a bit of a nutter.”_

_“Who’s she yelling at?”_

_“She’s even cute when she’s angry.”_

Harriet wasn’t running but wasn’t walking, either. It was a mistake coming back. She should have listened.

She stopped just short of running into someone. It was someone tall, dressed in black. Harriet’s first instinct was Snape, but no. It was a woman. A tall woman in black. Her hair was black. Her eyes a dazzling blue surrounded by heavy eye-liner.

Harriet knew the woman. She was the headmistress of the now destroyed Salem Witches’ Institute.

Madam Adele Irene.

“Hello, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Madam Irene said, lifting her imperious eyes from Harriet to take in the surrounding students.

Harriet glanced over her shoulder. Most eyes were on Madam Irene now. Her look was so stern that many of the closer students began backing away. After close to half a minute, all students moved off, heading for their next classes.

Harriet returned her attention to Madam Irene.

“Still having a hard go of it, are you?” Madam Irene asked. “You are a glutton for punishment returning to Hogwarts so soon.”

“I… I had something I had to do…” Harriet stammered.

“Of course,” Madam Irene replied. “As do I. Walk with me.”

Madam Irene had no authority over Harriet, which Harriet knew, yet just as Professor Howe had been unable to resist Madam Irene telling him to have a drink with her, Harriet could not stop herself walking along with the woman.

“Wh-what are you here to do?” Harriet asked.

“A rather personal question of someone you’re only meeting for the second time,” Madam Irene said.

Harriet tightened her lips, surprised someone like Madam Irene could be so rude.

“Am I rude for rebuking your question, or were you rude for asking it?” Madam Irene asked.

Harriet blinked. Was Madam Irene like her? Was she a Legilimens, too?

Madam Irene stopped. Harriet found it hard to meet her hard, cold eyes. Though they were the same colour, Madam Irene’s eyes were not like Professor Dumbledore’s. Professor Dumbledore’s made you feel pierced, and yet there was a light and life behind them. Madam Irene’s eyes were like a wall. In fact, they reminded her of Captain Kane’s.

Madam Irene resumed walking.

“In immediate retrospect, you are enough in the know of both matters that have brought me here. I first arrived at your father’s business to inquire as to why the first shipment of new uniforms was not delivered, nor been shipped in the first place. After a short, poor cover story from a befuddled werewolf and five clueless teenagers, I decided to continue to my second venture, demanding an answer from the esteemed headmistress of Hogwarts and leader of a certain organisation as to why they are not putting more effort into freeing Sherry and Jefferson from Azkaban.”

Harriet stumbled a step.

“Walk with your head high, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Madam Irene critiqued. “Your back should be straight and tall, walk at a measured pace. You will be more balanced, more observant, and less liable to trip.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Harriet replied automatically.

“Madam.”

“Yes, madam.”

The pair walked on in silence. Harriet glanced up at Madam Irene again.

“Aren’t you going to ask me what was going on?”

“No,” Madam Irene said simply. “I don’t pry into people’s personal lives or ask personal questions from people I barely know.”

Harriet shook her head. She couldn’t place Madam Irene. Her words seemed harsh but did not match her tone. She was perfectly matter-of-fact about everything.

“But you give me advice,” Harriet mumbled.

“I am a teacher; it is in my nature.”

“What do you teach?” Harriet asked.

“Are you asking about the nature of my lessons or the nature of those I give lessons to?”

“Uh—the—first one?”

Madam Irene stopped again. She stopped so quickly that Harriet nearly tripped once more trying to stop, too.

“I am a headmistress, Miss Potter-Dusk. I have always been one. I did not teach mere Transfiguration, or Potions, or Charms. At Salem Witches’ Institute, we turn silly young girls into women. We teach them to be graceful but strong. We teach them to walk tall with pride. We teach them to always be in control of their minds, their mouths, and their bodies. We teach them that they are second to no one. We teach them to be clear in their language at all times so no one may mistake their meaning.”

Harriet blinked. At first, she couldn’t meet Madam Irene’s eyes. Now she couldn’t look away from them. Madam Irene’s face was very close to Harriet’s now as if boring the information into Harriet’s mind.

_“Kiiiiiisssss,”_ moaned a voice in Harriet’s mind.

Harriet looked around. An older Hufflepuff boy was standing nearby, watching though pretending not to. Madam Irene followed Harriet’s glance and saw the boy, too. Realising he was noticed, the boy went a Snape-ish shade of pale and hurried down the other corridor he was halfway in.

Madam Irene slowly returned her gaze to Harriet. It was piercing again but also searching. The expression was nothing like it had been before.

“That boy said nothing and made not a sound…”

Madam Irene’s eyes glanced up to Harriet’s forehead, but for once Harriet was sure it was not her scar Madam Irene was looking at.

“You heard his thoughts, didn’t you?” Madam Irene asked.

Harriet couldn’t answer. Whether it was because she didn’t want to reveal this secret, or because she was too stunned that Madam Irene worked that out, Harriet wasn’t sure.

Madam Irene drew and swished her wand. All at once, a silence not unlike the one that Professor Howe had cast upon Professor Dumbledore’s office back in Harriet’s second year fell over the little piece of the corridor they were occupying.

“Miss Potter-Dusk, you’re a Legilimens…”

Harriet still couldn’t speak. There was no point denying or confirming. The tone of Madam Irene’s voice made it clear she wasn’t guessing or asking.

Then, Madam Irene’s eyes seemed to soften. They no longer felt like walls.

_“Your father is a fool…”_

“He is not!” Harriet snapped, returning to her senses.

Madam Irene’s eyes walled up again and her lips gained a tiny, satisfied curl. Harriet scowled. She should have realised.

Harriet blinked looking back at Madam Irene. Her mind was going into gear again. Madam Irene’s walled eyes. Professor Snape said that to perform Legilimency without being a Legilimens worked best with eye contact. Was that why Madam Irene’s felt like that?

“It’s called Occlumency,” Madam Irene said. “It’s the counter to Legilimency. It’s a powerful tool—”

“I know what Occlumency is,” Harriet replied. “Professor Snape was teaching me… it’s… it’s why all the others were looking at me, and I was…”

Madam Irene groaned and rolled her eyes in frustration. She stood and began pacing. “They tried to teach Occlumency to a hormonal, young Legilimens… that’s like trying to teach a fish to breathe air!”

“But I have to learn it!” Harriet said.

“Of course you do,” Madam Irene replied. “And they couldn’t have picked a better person to teach an average student Occlumency, but Severus is not someone I would count as an expert on Legilimency or Legilimens. You need a proper teacher for both subjects…”

Madam Irene began pacing. Harriet didn’t need her Legilimency to feel Madam Irene’s anxiety.

“This is much to consider,” Madam Irene said. “I must speak with Professor McGonagall and your parents about several subjects, it seems. First and foremost, we must get you to a member of the Order.”

“Why?” Harriet asked.

Madam Irene took Harriet’s arm. She flicked her wand again, and the bubble of sound-suppression vanished. She began leading Harriet in the opposite direction they had come, away from the Headmistress’ office.

“Because the first thing we need to do is get you out of Hogwarts,” Madam Irene explained. “Before you go mad.”

“I’m not going mad!”

“I encountered you clutching your head running out of the school without looking where you were going, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Madam Irene replied, her bored tone returning.

Harriet thought. “How do you know so much about all this?”

“I run a school for girls, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Madam Irene said. “An interesting observation you will make is that Legilimens are far more commonly women.”

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Madam Irene replied, now sounding a little impatient. “We get at least two a year.”

A pregnant pause followed when Harriet remembered something.

“You really call Professor Howe ‘Sherry’?”

Even though Madam Irene was ahead of Harriet, she could tell the woman’s face was glowing with a smug grin.

To Harriet’s surprise, they did not head for Mum’s office, however. Instead, they stopped outside Professor Sutler’s office. She knocked sharply.

Harriet heard the click of a walking stick, and the door opened. Professor Namander was fixing his false-beard slightly.

“Oh, hello,” Professor Namander said kindly. “Good morning Miss Potter, and… I’m sorry I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Newton—”

“Ah, it’s Professor Sk—”

“ _Newton_ ,” Madam Irene stressed, cutting him off. “I don’t have time for the silly games. My name is Madam Adele Irene. Harriet here has a condition you’re rather familiar with.”

_Condition?_ Harriet thought, coolly.

“O-oh?” Professor Namander stammered, taken off-guard by Madam Irene’s brusque nature.

“The same one suffered by your sister-in-law,” Madam Irene continued.

Professor Namander’s eyes widened in realisation. He glanced from Harriet to Madam Irene.

“You are sure?” he asked.

“Of course I am sure,” Madam Irene sighed. “She still lives in Britain. It is of the utmost importance that Harriet is instructed in her true nature by a someone who truly understands what it is she is going through.”

“I…” Professor Namander’s eyes drifted to Harriet again. There was pain and empathy in his expression now.

“Alright,” Professor Namander said gently. “You are right… I’ll write her at once.”

### * * * *

Sebastian’s caring, sympathetic smile was back.

“How did you come to deal with it?” Harriet asked. “I don’t want to sound rude but… being… you know… what you are? I can’t imagine people just kept it in their heads like they do with me…”

“No, they did not,” Sebastian said, sadly. “It just took time… At first, it took time for me to come to grips with myself and my new identity. It took me some time to accept myself.”

“So you think I should stay away from Hogwarts for a bit, too?”

“If I recall,” Sebastian said, for the first time betraying the tiniest hint of a reprimand. “My prescription expressly called for one week’s bed-rest.”

“Right,” Harriet mumbled, hanging her head.

“I know this is difficult,” Sebastian said. “Trust me, I know better than most anyone you know, save your friend, Remus. There is nothing more painful to the average person, a social creature, than isolation. I do not want you isolated. I merely want you away from large crowds who can overwhelm you.”

Harriet tried to hide the shadow of bitterness that welled up inside her at that moment. She wasn’t weak. She could do it.

Sebastian sighed. “Harriet, please understand. The human mind can be injured as savagely as any extremity. The fact there are no visible scars does not negate the pain you are suffering. When you break a limb in Quidditch, you go to the hospital wing for a while. No one questions it. But when something is happening to your mind, and people can’t see it, society has decided it means less. Well, I am here to tell you that is rubbish.”

Harriet returned her gaze to Sebastian.

“I’m here to tell you that it is okay to take time to heal your mind. That the pain you are feeling is as valid as any injury you can experience on the Quidditch pitch.”

Harriet appreciated what Sebastian was telling her. She deeply did. Yet the pain of losing Quidditch was still fresh to her as well.

“Sorry,” Sebastian grimaced, drooping his cat-ears. “I just realised that was not the most apt analogy to use…”

“It’s okay,” Harriet sighed. “I guess I’ll have to get used to that, too… be more time to study, I suppose.”

“Ah, well,” Sebastian said raising a finger. “I wouldn’t say withdrawing completely will help. There are plenty of other activities around Hogwarts to keep up a social life, keep you physically active and in good health.”

“I suppose,” Harriet thought, unenthusiastically.

What besides Quidditch could give the thrill of flying? Football and lacrosse were certainly physical, but it was just running around. But either way, if she got on either football or lacrosse, she would be spending time with Hermione or Ronnie.

“Well, keep an open mind,” Sebastian said kindly.

There was a knock on the door. Sebastian gave Harriet a solicitous look.

“Come in,” Harriet said.

Mum entered. She was smiling brightly, looking rather excited. Harriet felt her heart leap. Had Daddy found Finn?

“Harriet, dear,” Mum said. “I have some good news for you.”

“You do?” Harriet asked.

“Yes,” Mum smiled. “We have found you some tutors… one who’ll help you properly with Legilimency and Occlumency.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. “Who…? Professor Namander was writing…”

“And wrote he did, honey.”

Harriet stared as an elderly woman she did not recognise stepped into the room. She had an American accent, the kind people from New York City had in films and television. She was almost as short as Harriet, with wavy white hair. Her eyes were bright in her round, aged face. She looked sweet and kind; her smile was warm and calming.

“I came at once,” the woman said, holding out a hand to Harriet.

“I… Hello,” Harriet stammered. “Miss…?”

“Please, call me Queenie, honey,” the woman said. “Queenie Goldstein.”

“A-a pleasure.”

“And the other tutor will instruct you in many of the subjects you would otherwise fall behind in.”

Harriet’s eyes widened at once. She had no trouble recognising that voice whatsoever. Into the room stepped an all too familiar face. It was Madam Irene.


	23. Commonality

“Little can heal a soul faster than belonging and understanding.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet’s first lesson with Queenie did not go as Harriet expected. Not that Harriet was quite sure what to expect, but it certainly had not been baking.

“I know it’s a cliché,” Queenie said, clearly reading Harriet’s thoughts, “But I find it helps me focus. Besides, I like creatin’. And if you’re goin’ to create, it might as well be somethin’ delicious, right?”

“I… can’t argue with that,” Harriet conceded. “What are we making?”

“A souffle, honey,” Queenie smiled as she set down her bag on the table. “Special treat just for us.”

Queenie pointed her wand at the bag and at once it popped open, dishes and cooking ingredients flying out and settling on the countertop.

“Never had a souffle,” Harriet admitted.

“First time for everythin’,” Queenie winked. “We’re startin’ off on an easy one, just a nice simple chocolate. First, we gotta take all the racks outta the oven.”

“Okay,” Harriet said, hurrying over.

_No rush, honey._

Harriet started and looked around at Queenie. Her little mouth was curled into a smile, and her eyes were twinkling.

“We can talk like that?”

_Course, honey,_ said the voice in Harriet’s head. _It’s one of the easiest things for people like us to read: people’s explicit thoughts._

Harriet stared.

_You mean if I think like this?_

Queenie’s smile grew. _Exactly._

Harriet grinned. “That’s kinda cool.”

Queenie giggled politely and helped Harriet take out the racks.

“It’s somethin’ only us can do,” Queenie said. “And only to each otha’. We can’t project our thoughts on’ta other folks.”

“That makes sense…”

“Okay, now we set the heat to four-hundred degrees,” Queenie said to herself, turning the dial.

“Can’t we just cook it with magic,” Harriet asked.

“Oh, not a souffle, honey,” Queenie smiled. “Not all problems can be solved by magic. They’s some things that Muggles fig’red out that even magic can’t do.”

“You know a lot about Muggles?” Harriet asked.

Queenie’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, I should say so, sweetie. Spent the better part of my life married ta one.”

Harriet stared. “You married a Muggle?”

Queenie’s eyes were positively alight. At once, Harriet felt awash with feelings of happiness. It was a tingling sensation deep in her gut, washing over her body. She knew instantly she was feeling Queenie’s emotions.

 “Wow,” Harriet whispered. She wanted to ask more questions about Queenie’s Muggle husband, but she thought that might be too rude after only her second meeting with Queenie.

Queenie gave Harriet a gentle smile. “Feelin’ other people’s feelin’s like that’s easier when you’re with just one person. At school, you get a bit overwhelmed. You’re always surrounded by angry folks, sad folks, happy… takes trainin’ to make sense of it.”

_But, how can I hear thoughts like this?_ Harriet thought. _I’m starting to hear them all the time._

_You’re a Legilimens, honey, just like me. We’re Empaths. Legilimens is just a fancy-pants word for it,_ replied Queenie’s thoughts.

_An Empath?_

_Means you can feel other people’s minds,_ Queenie’s thoughts said. _You’re a natural, honey. You’re so full of love._

Harriet flushed but certainly felt flattered.

_Our minds crave affection and other people,_ Queenie explained. _Add that splash of magic, and it’s a given we’ll feel a bit deeper than others._

“Now the oven’s heating, we butter the dish,” Queenie said aloud, handing it to Harriet.

“Next, we coat them with sugar,” Queenie explained after they finished buttering. “The butter and the sugar helps it rise.”

“How?”

“When it rises, the sugar holds it, rather than lettin’ it settle. Some dishes come with rough edges, so you don’t gotta butter and sugar it, but where’s the fun in that?”

Harriet giggled.

Queenie then put some bittersweet chocolate and more butter into a bowl. She drew her wand and took a pot, setting it on the stove. She lit the burner under it, turning it down to a simmer.

“ _Aguamenti_ ,” Queenie said, streaming some water into the pot from her wand-tip. She tapped the pot with her wand, and at once it began steaming.

_Okay,_ came Queenie’s thoughts. _Now we let it melt._

Queenie set the bowl of chocolate and butter into the boiling water.

_So how come these thoughts are easier to read?_ Harriet thought back. She was too eager.

_As far as thoughts go, this might as well be shoutin’, honey,_ Queenie replied with a wry smile.

Queenie began cracking eggs into another bowl.

_How do you deal with them?_

Queenie sighed. _Sadly, honey, you just learn to tune them out. Just the same way you learn to tune out other folks talkin’ in crowded places. For most of us, it’s easy enough, we just try and focus on our physical senses. We focus on the ‘here and now.’_

Harriet looked down at the bowl of melting chocolate and butter. “Like baking?”

“Exactly,” Queenie smiled happily.

She took the bowl of chocolate and butter from the simmering water and set it on the table. Harriet watched as Queenie flicked her wand at the bowl of cracked eggs. The yolks floated up out of the bowl, perfectly separated from the whites, and plopped themselves into the melted chocolate and butter.

Queenie then flicked her wand at one of the whisks. It sprang to life and started whisking up the yolks, chocolate, and butter, adding a pinch of sea salt.

_You know this summer I met a man who created a spell to enchant all household items to work on their own._

Queenie smiled at Harriet. _That so? Ain’ that a marvel._

_He wanted to cut down on the use of house-elves._

_The poor things,_ Queenie thought, adding some cream of tartar to the egg whites. She set another whisk to whip them up, occasionally adding in little teaspoons of sugar.

_Back in my country_ , Queenie’s thoughts continued. _We liberated house-elves a long time ago. But not exactly._

_Not exactly?_

_They weren’t given any real rights… they couldn’t own property or vote or nothin’. They mostly had service jobs: wand-polishers and elevator operators and the like._

Harriet was feeling more at ease with Queenie. She felt so lively despite her old age.

_So how long have you known you were a Legilimens?_ Harriet thought.

_Since about the time I knew I was magic_ , Queenie explained. _It was a little scary at first. Kept thinkin’ I was hearing ghosts._

“Awwww.”

“I almost had to go to S.W.I., but cuz of our parents dyin’ when we was just little they let me stay at Ilvermorny.”

“Ilvermorny?”

“It’s another American magic school. It was started by former Hogwarts students who felt America deserved a school like Hogwarts. I was in Pukwudgie.”

“Pukwudgie?”

“My house.”

“Ohhhh.”

Queenie was now putting some of the whipped egg whites and cream of tartar into the chocolate mixture, whipping it in as well.

“Didn’t you know you was a Legilimens when you started doin’ magic, too?” Queenie asked.

“No,” Harriet admitted. “I didn’t know I was a witch until my eleventh birthday when Hagrid turned up with my Hogwarts letter.”

Queenie paused, giving Harriet a little searching look. Harriet found herself remembering her childhood, the horrible years at the Dursleys. It took Harriet a moment to realise that Queenie was using her Legilimency on her. The experience was so much different from Professor Snape’s brute force attacks on her mind that Harriet did not recognise it at first.

“Oh you poor thing,” Queenie said in a soft, pained voice.

Harriet couldn’t meet Queenie’s eyes. Harriet felt Queenie take one of Harriet’s hands. She looked up to see tears in Queenie’s eyes, but she was still smiling.

“Almost ready,” Queenie said, gesturing to the mixing bowls. “Help me fold the whites into the other bowl?”

“O-okay,” Harriet stammered.

The sensation was oddly satisfying as Harriet felt the gooey mixtures between her fingers.

“Doin’ this by hand is the best way,” Queenie explained. “A souffle ain’ as simple as a strudel. You gotta wait and feel for it, work it by touch.”

“How’ll I know when that is?” Harriet asked.

Queenie squeezed the mixture. “Perfect, honey. Now let’s get it into the big dish.”

They transferred the contents of the bowl into the buttered and sugared dish. Queenie ran her thumb along the edge, keeping the mixture about an inch from the sides. She picked it up, and Harriet opened the oven door for her.

“Set the dial to 375, sweetie,” Queenie said, setting the souffle pan on the bottom of the oven.

Harriet set the dial as Queenie shut the oven door.

“Now, we keep a close watch on it, but under no circumstances are we ta open this door till it’s ready,” Queenie explained.

“When’ll that be?”

“Be about thirty minutes, even,” Queenie smiled. “But not less than twenty.”

“Cool,” Harriet said, sitting. Queenie pulled her chair around by the stove, sitting as well.

The pair sat in silence, both verbal and mental, for a few moments.

“Well, now we got a few minutes... I should probably explain in a bit more detail, huh?” Queenie said.

She took a slow breath. “You’re a Legilimens, jus’ like me,” Queenie explained. “Like I said before, your strong sense of love and caring combines with your magic and makes you deeply attuned tah other people’s feelin’s.”

Harriet nodded, “That makes sense.”

“Most of us it kicks in when we’re just kids... It gives us time to adjust to it with our families in a safe, lovin’ environment. But you’ve had to suppress yourself cuz of your family,” Queenie continued. “You’ve always given love, but never really received it... now you’re older, and you have your friends, its explodin’ outta yah.”

Harriet grimaced. That sounded right, too.

“No wonder Madam Irene got you outta dodge, so to speak, so quickly,” Queenie said.

“She said I was going crazy, and I guess she wasn’t wrong,” Harriet admitted.

“Oh, it’s worse than that, honey,” Queenie said, sadly.

“What do you mean?”

“Meanin’ if your classmates found out you can hear all their inner thoughts without tryin’? How yah think they’d react?”

Harriet's stomach churned. Great, just what she needed, more reasons for people to think her a threat or a freak.

“Or if the magic world found out,” Queenie said. “You think Fudge is bad now?”

Harriet shifted uncomfortably, uncertain of where Queenie was going with this, but it couldn’t be good.

“We Legilimens are typically treated one of two ways,” Queenie explained. “Like me. I had to keep bein’ a Legilimens secret. Mostly worked low-level stuff for the New York MACUSA branch just to pay the bills with Tina. New York wasn’t cheap livin’ even in those days. I’da either been fired a security risk or drafted to work for the army as a spy.”

Harriet’s discomfort grew.

“Lucky you ain’t got an army here in Magical Britain,” Queenie said. “All this stuff with Voldemort comin’ back... ‘magine if he took over the Ministry and ya’ll had one?”

Harriet was starting to seriously regret this conversation. The pair fell quiet again as Queenie checked the souffle through the window.

Queenie sighed softly, sitting up again. “I suppose we can start with some lessons,” Queenie said.

“Like what?” Harriet asked.

“Firstly, yah gotta learn to feel.”

“Shouldn’t I have someone who isn’t a Legilimens to practice that with?”

Queenie shook her head. “Oh no, dear. I can make my thoughts explicit enough you can hear them, but not my feelings or my memories.”

Harriet nodded. “Okay, so... how?”

Queenie rested a gentle hand on Harriet’s on the table. “It’s hard to describe, sweetie, and I assure you, I ain’ not teacher. But you already felt my emotions earlier when I was thinkin’ of Jacob. You have to let go and let it happen. You’ve got yourself all trained up to try and block people out already... you got walls against people. You gotta learn how to connect.”

Harriet took a deep breath. Walls down, eh? Harriet thought of the times Sebastian would tell her to visualise things. She imagined herself surrounded by high walls. Then, she visualised them all crumbling. She looked into Queenie’s eyes and thought about there being no walls between them.

It happened. She caught sight of a beautiful young woman standing in a bakery. She was smiling tenderly at the man standing behind the counter. He looked around Daddy’s age, but shorter and portlier of build. He had a neatly trimmed moustache and curly black hair. The man was looking at the woman with confusion, before he slowly reached up, touching his neck. Then, he slowly smiled.

Harriet gasped coming back to her senses. Queenie was beaming.

“Excellent, honey, that was a great first try.”

“Did I pull out that memory, or did I just see it?” Harriet asked, remembering Queenie’s earlier foray into her mind.

“Just saw it that time, honey,” Queenie explained, patting Harriet’s hand again and checking the souffle once more.

“Was that your husband?” Harriet asked.

“That was my sweet Jacob,” Queenie said, happily.

Despite her happy tone and warm smile, Harriet felt something more. There was a sad loneliness about Queenie.

“He’s passed, hasn’t he?” she asked.

Queenie’s smile tightened a little, and Harriet felt a jolt of pain. “He has, sweetie. Before you was born, back in seventy-nine.”

“I’m sorry...”

“Oh, don’t be sweetie,” Queenie said, squeezing Harriet’s hand again. “It was something we came to terms with a long time ago...”

“What?”

“Muggles don’t live as long as us, honey,” Queenie said. “We always knew he was going to pass first.”

Harriet became very interested in the pattern on the tiled floor. That meant she was sure to outlive Finn should they be reunited and end up together.

Queenie’s smile returned. “If you really love him, sweetie, it’s worth every moment.”

Harriet lifted her head.

“That boy means a lot to you,” Queenie said. “There is somethin’ magic about muggles, especially for us.”

“What do you mean?”

“There’s a simple honesty to many of them,” Queenie explained. “Jacob was painfully honest. You could read him like a book. Most muggles, or no-maj as we called ‘em at the time, obviously don’t know what we’s capable of. Magic folk, even subconsciously, tend to try and keep their minds closed. If yah ask me, we Legilimens is more cut out for a muggle than another magical person. They’s more passionate and open.”

Harriet nodded slowly.

“Not like I’m tryin’ to tell ya what to do,” Queenie smiled. “Just things to consider from one who’s been there.”

“What was Jacob like?” Harriet asked.

“He was kind and loyal,” Queenie replied. “Doggedly so. He was a soldier, y’know? He’d been through some of the worst hell… but he never let it get to him. He kept fightin’… opened his bakery. He liked making other people happy.”

_Sounds like Finn…_ Harriet thought, remembering how hard Finn had fought to keep his brother happy, and how he always looked out for his friends.

More silence. Harriet let her mind drift.

“So, Professor Namander?”

Queenie began laughing at once.

“Oh, Deliverance Dane, isn’t he a card? He thought that up not wanting to draw attention to himself. Poor Newt’s clever, but he’s never exactly been subtle.”

“But why not?” Harriet asked. “Most students would be excited to learn from him. My friend Ronnie went positively spare.”

“Newt ain’ never much cared for fame and recognition, sweetie,” Queenie explained. “He just ain’ that kinda person. He launched a campaign to save magic creatures because he wanted to save magic creatures. But the fame started shifting onto him, especially after he helped Dumbledore with Grindelwald—that’s a story for another day—” Queenie cut Harriet off, recognising Harriet’s interest in that topic. “Plus, he’s happy to see how well Professor Sutler’s been doing as a teacher. He didn’t wanna outshine him.”

Harriet nodded. “That’s nice of him…”

“That and Newt—Goodness!” Queenie smiled looking in the oven. “Just about there!”

Harriet leaned over, too. The souffle had indeed risen quite well.

“Funny to think it’s just whipped eggs…” Harriet muttered.

“Ahhh, it’s art, honey,” Queenie smiled. “I knew a lot about cookin’, but Jacob opened me up to real bakin’. The sweat and love put into it. Bout five more minutes outta do it.”

Harriet was starting to get hungry. The smell was wonderful.

“Soon we’ll have full tummies of deliciousness, and we can focus on lessons properly,” Queenie smiled.

“Can’t argue with that,” Harriet giggled.

### * * * *

Harriet had a free Wednesday. She would see Sebastian again on Thursday, with another Queenie lesson on Friday. Madam Irene said she had matters to tend to before their first Potions and Legilimency lessons.

Mum, who would have Astronomy lessons late that night, would be spending the afternoon and evening sleeping. As a treat, Mum was going to take Harriet into Hogsmeade that morning.

Harriet was hard pressed to hide her excitement. She’d get to see the Hog’s Head full of life. She’d also get to see Daddy’s new, rebuilt shop. She still hadn’t had the chance. She was also hoping to get the chance to talk to Holly Cambridge while there. She wasn’t sure of Holly’s schedule, but there was always a chance.

Harriet dressed comfortably. She put on her invisibility cloak, keeping her head exposed so Mum could see her in the house, and headed for the door. Mum laughed at the sight of Harriet’s floating head approaching.

“I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to that,” Mum smiled, holding out her hand.

“Better than me just walking up and scaring you,” Harriet giggled, taking Mum’s hand and pulling the hood up over her head.

“Too true,” Mum smiled and drew her wand.

They stepped out onto the front step and Mum swirled her wand in a wide arc. Harriet had to admit she was starting to get used to the sensation of Apparation. They popped to a stop on the back step of Daddy’s shop. Harriet was grinning ear to ear with excitement as Mum unlocked and opened the door. Harriet stepped inside and pulled back the hood of the cloak, looking around.

The inside of the office area looked much the same as it had but felt newer. The wood was shinier than Harriet remembered. It seemed neater than before; not so many papers and designs tacked up all over the walls. Harriet reminded herself that the shop was just barely open. Daddy himself had barely been here since the reopening. It would take time.

“Hello?” Mum called.

“Hello!” called Remus in response from the show floor.

He appeared in the doorway, smiling warmly. He looked tired as ever, but Harriet reminded herself that it was just about a week since the last full moon. To Harriet’s extra delight, another familiar face peered around the door. The unmistakable long red braid of Holly Cambridge.

“Hi, Harriet!” Holly said, waving.

“Hi!” Harriet said, hanging up her invisibility cloak.

Holly gasped at the sight of it, hurrying over. “Is _that_ an invisibility cloak?!”

“Er, yes,” Harriet said as Holly began inspecting it.

“I’ve never seen one like this,” Holly said almost reverently, “Mom’s is demiguise hair…”

“We need to talk,” Harriet said under her breath to Holly as Remus walked over.

Harriet hugged him. “Missed you.”

Remus chuckled, resting a hand on Harriet’s back, which was as close to a hug as Remus ever got. “I’ve missed you too.”

“Hello,” said another voice. Harriet looked around at the door and saw Krystelle Gandy, Dora’s childhood friend.

“Oh, you’re interning here, too?” Harriet asked.

“Yeah,” Krystelle replied, walking over. “Chance to get out. I’m not really interested in fashion, but it would look good on my CV.”

“You said you wanted to talk?” Holly whispered as Mum and Remus began chatting.

“Yes,” Harriet said. “Is there somewhere we can?”

“Shop doesn’t open for an hour or so,” Krystelle said. “Shop’s empty ‘cept for Hyland and us.”

“Hyland?” Harriet asked, her anxiety rising.

“He’s setting up,” Holly explained.

“I see,” Harriet said quietly, fighting off a shiver.

She’d never forget those black eyes looking at her in the reflected glass, or Hyland move so fast he could barely be seen, and nearly rip a lamp-post from the ground.

_Then again,_ Harriet thought, _even that other side of him fought Kinney… and brought back Mr Crouch…_

Granted, Mr Crouch wasn’t the greatest person ever, but still, when all was said and done, crazy monster side of Hyland brought him to Hogwarts.

“Everything okay?” Holly asked.

Harriet fought hard to force a smile on her face. “Yeah, yeah all good.”

Harriet followed the girls out onto the shop floor. The counters were covered with design papers. The shop floor was as full of clothing as ever. Racks and racks filled the floor and rose up the walls.

Hyland was indeed on the floor. He was near the front door, cleaning the windows.

“Poor guy,” Holly whispered. “He misses working in the pub.”

“Hm? Doesn’t he live there?”

“He does, but since the barman hired on more staff, he’s felt a bit crowded out.”

Just then Hyland looked around and saw them. He waved at Harriet, making his way over.

“Hi, Hyland,” Harriet said at once, not wanting to seem suspicious.

“Howdy,” Hyland said.

Holly giggled. “Howdy?”

Hyland rolled his eyes. “Picked it up from the Yanks at the pub… it’s infectious. It’s like ‘Oye, you live in Britain now, you should be the ones starting to talk like us’ but no! Everyone’s just starting to talk like them.”

Krystelle laughed, too. Even Harriet’s lips were twitching a little.

“Well, I bet Antoinette would like that,” Harriet said.

Hyland immediately went pink, but smiled, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah? Y-you think so…?”

“Ooooh,” Krystelle grinned, her eyes twinkling in a way that reminded Harriet all too much of Dora. “And who’s this Antoinette?”

“Hyland has a sweetheart,” Holly cooed, still reminded Harriet of Hermione as her eyes became a bit dewy seemed larger than a normal person’s.

“Oh shush,” Hyland muttered. “She likes me but not that way…”

“And just how do you know?” Holly said bossily, putting her hands on her hips.

Hyland rolled his eyes. “Okay, I don’t know… have no idea, but she never acts all that interested when we write…”

“And how often do you write?” Krystelle asked, shrewdly.

“Like…” Hyland trailed off inaudibly.

“Hylaaaaand,” Holly insisted.

“Alright, alright,” Hyland grumbled. “Like daily!”

“Awwwwwwwww,” the three girls cooed in unison.

“Har-har,” Hyland continued to grumble. “She’s just worried about that Umbridge woman. Says most all the other ‘Mericans are.”

“They’re not alone,” Krystelle said, her demeanour becoming waspish in the blink of an eye.

“You’re not on her bandwagon, either?” Harriet asked.

“Hell no,” Krystelle sniffed. “We all have to pretend like we are, though. Me, poor Portia, Gaius, Don, Colm…”

Harriet’s heart leapt. She had more allies. And what’s more, they seemed to trust Colm. That would mean she wouldn’t have to be so careful around Kieran and Scott anymore if so.

Today was turning out to be quite productive, after all.

They headed to a quiet corner. Harriet wasn’t exactly sure why Hyland was joining them, but if Holly and Krystelle did not mind, she supposed she had no reason to, either.

Except for the fact she kept expecting his eyes to go black and his teeth to become pointed again.

The more they spoke, the more excited Harriet grew. Even Hyland was going to prove an asset. He said he would talk with the American girls in the pub. With everyone going to the Hog’s Head now, they were well positioned to overhear gossip while serving.

“We can get everyone together,” Holly said. “Krys and I, Gaius, Don, and Colm are definitely in.”

“How is he?” Harriet asked.

Holly grimaced. “He’s doing as best he can.”

“It’s maddening,” Krystelle admitted. “We’re not really under Umbridge’s spell, but we can’t remember anything, either!”

“You really can’t?” Harriet asked, putting a caring hand on Krystelle’s arm.

“No!” Krystelle said, rubbing her forehead. “Like I remember coming to Hogwarts… I remember walking into the grounds… Umbridge was there… she led us all to the new dorm…”

Krystelle’s hands were shaking. Holly put an arm around Krystelle’s shoulder.

“I’m okay,” Krystelle said. “We then went into Umbridge’s office, one at a time. I got called… then the next thing I remember it was the next morning.”

“You don’t remember what happened in the office, or going to bed?” Harriet asked.

“No!” Krystelle said, running her hand through her hair. “I just woke up and felt… different. My roommate didn’t remember anything, either. No one in the common room could remember anything.”

“That was kind of terrifying,” Holly chimed in. “You all looked a bit zombified. I mean obviously you were all obliviated, but why? Ugh, why!?”

Hyland was rocking a little in his chair. His elbows were on his knees, his hands clasped, making a steeple with his pointer-fingers. He was staring straight ahead, clearly deep in thought.

“Something happened in there you weren’t supposed to remember,” Hyland said. “I bet you there was someone else in the room…”

The three girls blinked. “I mean that’s certainly possible, but that’s still a bit of a logical leap,” Holly said.

Hyland shrugged. “It’s just I’ve seen this Umbridge woman around town,” Hyland said. “I saw her talking with someone in an alley one time. It was a bloke, that was all I could tell. He was wearing a hooded cloak. It was really ratty and old…”

Krystelle shivered. “Oh, Merlin…”

Holly hugged her tighter around the shoulders.

“Okay, so we have someone else to find,” Harriet said. “We know there’s someone here, or was someone here, in Hogsmeade she’s working with.”

Krystelle was still shivering. “What did they do to us…?”

Holly was humming gently, rocking Krystelle. Harriet and Hyland exchanged a worried look.

“Hey, Hyland,” Remus called.

“Yeah, Rem?” Hyland called back.

“Could you help me with something a moment?” Remus asked.

“You got it,” Hyland said, rising.

“Keep me in the loop,” he told the girls, walking away. “I’ll be your eyes and ears in Hogsmeade! No one’ll suspect the Muggle!”

“I… wouldn’t shout it around you are one with Umbridge’s people about,” Harriet warned.

Hyland waved and headed into the back room. Krystelle took a deep breath, composing herself.

“Anyway,” she continued. “That was when Umbridge came in. And I remember just feeling this sense of… relief? Like: ‘content’? At the sight of her.”

Harriet rubbed her cheek, thinking. What would produce an effect like that?

“You think it’s the Imperius Curse?” Harriet asked.

Holly shrugged. “That’s a possibility, but that curse is outlawed by the ICW. If it got out that one of Fudge’s underlings was using it, the ICW would have his scalp.”

“Well, we should wait till we all get together to talk this out more, I think,” Harriet said. “Get all our best minds together, everyone on the same page.”

“Excellent idea,” Holly agreed. “When are you returning to Hogwarts?”

“Sunday night, I think,” Harriet said. “And as far as I know, I’m still going to be in your building.”

“Good,” Holly said. “I mean, good that we’ll be able to talk. Right under Umbridge’s nose, too.”

“This is either going to be really dangerous, or brilliant,” Krystelle snorted.

“Here’s the other thing,” Harriet said. “What about Fern?”

Holly and Krystelle exchanged nervous looks. “That we’re not sure of. She’s not talking to us, but she is your friend. If you start talking to us too openly around her, she’s probably going to get either jealous or suspicious.”

“Or both, knowing Fern,” Krystelle sighed.

Holly sniffed in agreement.

Harriet shook her head. “How are you all friends? I mean if it’s come to this?”

Holly and Krystelle deflated a little in their chairs. “She wasn’t always like this…” Krystelle said. “She was one of my best friends… my first friend at Rathlin. We were friends since Primary. I knew her before she became Alessa.” she smiled sadly.

“She doesn’t trust anyone farther than she can throw them anymore,” Holly rolled her eyes.

“Speaking of,” Harriet whispered, looking towards the office door. “Do you really think we can trust Hyland?”

Krystelle and Holly stared at her.

“Yes,” Holly said. “He knows everything about Hogsmeade, and he’s eager to help.”

“Strange time to come over mistrustful of Muggles,” Krystelle said, an eyebrow raised.

“No! No!” Harriet said, waving her hands, feeling stricken. “That’s not what I mean!”

Harriet took a breath. “I can’t really say anything… but Hyland… he has a big secret. Professor Howe knows it… so does Remus and Daddy—”

Krystelle snorted.

“What?”

“Daddy? Are you ten?”

Harriet glowered. “No, I just called him that in a big rush of emotion right after the first task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament and it’s just stuck.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Krystelle said, her lips twitching. “Go on.”

“Let’s just say… he’s not all he seems,” Harriet said. “There’s another side of him… a kind of scary one…”

Krystelle and Holly exchanged looks.

“Well, there are those drawings…” Holly pondered.

“Drawings?”

Harriet remembered. Only Monday she saw Hyland doodling something on parchment, yet he seemed to be completely unaware of doing so.

Holly reached down, rummaging through her bag. “I kept one he’d thrown away,” Holly said. “They’re interesting if a little repetitive.”

“Repetitive?”

“They’re all the same thing,” Krystelle explained as Holly drew out a piece of parchment.

Holly slid the parchment across the table to Harriet. Harriet pulled the parchment over. The corner of her eye twitched. There was no mistaking the face. The face was oval, with a mop of black hair. Not that Harriet was paying attention to that. It was the eyes. She couldn’t look away from the eyes. The big, jet black eyes.

Jerrad’s eyes.

### * * * *

Mum had just left. Harriet ran to her room, her heart racing. She was beside herself with excitement. They had a plan. She wrote out a quick letter for Holly and Krystelle to deliver to her friends. They were beginning their resistance.

Harriet counted herself Fern’s friend first, but she did think Fern had things wrong. After more chatting with Krystelle and Holly, it was clear how much they still cared about her. Harriet didn’t need her Legilimency to sense how badly they felt about what had happened, and how much they wanted their friend back. Before that could happen, however, they had to get her out of Umbridge’s clutches.

She was certainly unsettled by Hyland’s drawing as well. What did it mean that he was drawing pictures of his split side without realising it? Did it mean the other side was somehow awake? Like it was trying to push its way into Hyland’s consciousness? Was it trying to communicate with its human half?

Harriet couldn’t care about that right now. Right now she had a mini-mission all her own. A happy one.

Harriet popped open the latch on her trunk and swung the lid open. She wanted to dive into another of Finn’s memories while she was happy and on the verge of him being found, rather than out of despair and trying to escape. That especially wasn’t fair to Finn.

However, Harriet knew she was still selfish. Most of all, she wanted to see Finn’s memories of her.

Harriet had already braced herself. She knew she might run into something painful. She’d been so wrapped up in the strange goings on, and especially the Tri-Wizard Tournament, she’d quite often forgotten to write him back.

Harriet set the Pensieve down as gently as she could on her bed. Hedwig gave a twittering hoot. Harriet recognised it as disapproval.

“Oh hush,” Harriet rolled her eyes. “I have to know more.”

Hedwig ruffled her feathers indignantly.

Harriet took Finn from the trunk. She sat looking at his jar, thinking. Daddy had the best lead that Harriet could think of. She would be walking him back through his memories in no time. She just knew it.

Harriet also studied the little coin that Kreacher had given her which she had taped to the lid. She wondered how Kreacher was doing now. She didn’t suppose he would come if she summoned him. Granted, she didn’t want to summon him right now, anyway. She had other ideas.

Harriet unscrewed the lid. She touched the tip of her wand to the memories, closing her eyes and thinking hard. She did her best to imagine her face, thinking her name over and over as she drew out a memory.

Harriet opened her eyes, guiding the connected memory to the Pensieve. It dropped in. She was only taking one. She thought it would be the most likely this way to get a memory she’d want to see.

The memory swirled and swooshed around in the stone basin. As there was only one, rather than becoming a fine mist, the memory danced around like one of the fireflies at the Flamel house. Harriet sat on her knees and slowly bent over the Pensieve.

She was falling but had much more control now, accustomed to the sensation. She shifted her body upright and a moment later lightly landed on her feet. Harriet looked around. She wasn’t entirely sure, but she had a feeling she was in a sort of common room.

It looked much different than Hogwarts common rooms. Everything in it felt much more modern. The chairs looked new, though had seen a fair amount of use. There was no fireplace that she could see, but all the room’s furniture seemed to be aimed inwards towards the centre, as though to encourage students sitting in them to face and converse with each other. It had a very inclusive, welcoming feel.

“Hey, Frank…”

Harriet jumped as Finn spoke. He was sitting in a far corner to her left. He was leaning against the wall beside a portrait.

The young gentleman in the portrait was wearing a three-piece suit, and his hair was slicked back like out of an old black and white film from the fifties. His face was smart and sharp, with bright, twinkling blue eyes. He was leaning his back against the frame of the portrait, as though it were two friends sitting together.

 “Good-evenin', Finn ma’boy,” the portrait drawled in a soothing American light baritone that gave Harriet a little tingle up her spine. “What’s buggin’ the ol’ noodle?”

Harriet looked around the room a little more. Half the portraits in the room seemed to be magical, yet others looked to be entirely ordinary. Harriet had seen portraits at Hogwarts pretend to be still, but none could sit still that convincingly.

“A girl,” Finn snorted. “At long last, I guess.”

 “A girl? Oh no, that’s dangerous territory, scooch,” the portrait chuckled, “gotta advise against that.”

“Oh shush Frank, I’m not like you like that.”

“Just razzin’ ya boy. So, a girl, eh?”

“Yeah… she’s perfect…”

Harriet walked closer. Finn was staring at the ceiling. Harriet recognised his outfit at once as his Hallowe’en performance outfit. This had to be that night as he got back to Rathlin. Something else caught Harriet’s eye. Finn had something in his hands. It was a Walkman. Her Walkman.

“Perfect y’say?” the portrait named Frank said, smiling kindly. “Real queen, huh?”

Finn shook his head, then shook it more vigorously. “No—yes, I mean… not like that.”

“Well spill boy, spill.”

“She’s just someone. Famous but… doesn’t want to be… just someone… special.”

“Sounds quite a doll,” Frank said, smiling gently, his teasing demeanour vanishing.

“Yeah, Frank… like… there we are… this whole place… packed full of birds… and like… like magic… the crowd opens, and there she is… just perfect…”

Frank chuckled, scratching his cheek. Harriet got close enough to read the placard on the portrait: _Francis ‘Frank’ Albert Sinatra_.

“What’d she look like? Paint a picture for this old portrait.”

Finn smiled and laughed. “Short… but… got figure. Jet black hair… and these eyes… those eyes… those green eyes… bit of a tan…”

Finn trailed off into silence. The pair remained mute for a moment before Frank snapped his fingers again.

“Details, details, don’t stop there,” Frank laughed.

“Sorry,” Finn chuckled. “She was wearing this outfit… I knew it at once… Nancy Drew…”

“Get out,” Frank snorted.

“Nope. Hundred percent truth.”

“Told you to find a Nancy, didn’t I?”

Finn laughed louder. “Her name’s Harriet. Harriet Potter.”

Frank’s face went blank. “Now I know you’re puttin’ me on.”

“Hand to god,” Finn said.

Harriet shook her head incredulously. Even the portrait of Frank Sinatra knew who she was? Then again, why did Frank Sinatra have a magical portrait?

“She said she’d write me,” Finn said. “But… I dunno…”

“Now that’s no way to be, a flutter bum like you.”

Finn rolled his eyes.

“So what about this Nanciet doll got you so floored.”

Finn’s face went red. “Well… you know my…”

Frank’s face broke into a wide smile. “Ohhhhhh.”

Finn smiled. “Yeah… only girl there wearing them… nice and high…”

Finn sighed laying his head back against the wall. “I tested her just a little, but I dunno if it worked…”

Frank raised an eyebrow.

“Joked about kidnapping her… and she blushed… she blushed _hard_ Frank…”

“And she didn’t hightail it?”

“Nope…”

“I think I feel a ‘told you so’ comin’ on.”

“She might notta really known what I meant…” Finn mumbled. “Krys told me that last year she got actually kidnapped… might have just freaked her out…”

“You gotta stop beatin’ yourself up over who you are, kiddo,” Frank said. “Confidence is the name of the game. Be confident in your own skin. Wear who you are in bright neon, and the dames’ll beat down your door.”

“Easy for you to say,” Finn scoffed. “Frank feckin’ Sinatra…”

Frank shrugged. “You got some on me. You can play instruments and that jazz. I can’t read music worth a damn.”

“But I can’t write songs for shit…”

“Neither could I. You think I wrote any of my songs?”

The pair fell silent again. Harriet hadn’t really been listening. She was staring at Finn as though nothing else existed. He’d been testing her? Why? Why would he want to know her reaction to being ‘kidnapped?’

It couldn’t be. It just couldn’t be.

“So, Nancy, huh?”

Finn smiled softly. “Yeah. Nancy.”

Frank started humming. Finn soon joined in. After a few bars, they were softly singing together. Harriet sat on the floor, listening.

 

“ _If I don't see her each day, I miss her_  
Gee, what a thrill each time I kiss her  
I've got a terrible case   
On Nancy with the laughin' face

_“She takes the winter and makes it summer_  
But summer could take some lessons from her  
Picture a tomboy in lace  
That's Nancy with the laughin' face

_“Have you ever heard mission bells ringin'?_  
Well, she'll give you the very same glow  
When she speaks, you would think it was singin'  
Just hear her say hello

_“I swear to goodness you can't resist her_  
Sorry for you, she has no sister  
No angel could replace  
Nancy with the laughin' face

_“Keep Betty Grable, Lamour, and Turner_  
She makes my heart a charcoal burner  
It's heaven when I embrace   
My Nancy with the laughin' face.”

 

More silence followed.

“What are you gonna do if she is like you?”

Finn smiled more.

“I’d do everything I could to make her feel like a goddess…”

The pair fell silent again.

“Hey, Finn?”

“Yeah, Frank?”

“Thanks for always keepin’ me company.”

Finn smiled again. “Always, Frank… always.”

Finn closed his eyes, his breathing slowing.

“Hey, Frank?”

“Yeah?”

“Sing that song again?”

Frank smiled gently.

“You got it, big softie.”

Finn chuckled as Frank started singing again.

 

“ _There's a somebody I'm longing to see_  
I hope that she turns out to be  
Someone who'll watch over me  
I'm a little lamb who's lost in the wood  
I know I could always be good  
To one who'll watch over me  
  
“Although I may not be the man some  
Girls think of as handsome  
To her heart, I'll carry the key  
Won't you tell her please to put on some speed  
Follow my lead, oh, how I need  
Someone to watch over me  
  
“Won't you tell her please to put on some speed  
Follow my lead, oh, how I need  
Someone to watch over me.”

 

The memory began to fade. Harriet wasn’t ready for it. She wanted it to go on forever, but Finn’s eyes were closed. He was falling asleep.

The misty world around her swirled and melted. Harriet was floating up, up, and away, away from the memory. She was back, sitting on her knees, looking down at the bowl again. She said nothing and barely thought as she put the memory back in the jar.

She closed the lid, letting herself think. Finn had a secret. A secret that revolved around the ‘kidnapping’ line. As if of its own volition, Harriet’s hand slipped back into the trunk. Slowly, she drew out a bundle of the clothesline. Her lips curled into a little smile.

She put Hedwig and DIDS out in the hallway and leaned back against the door after closing it. She bit her lip as a very mischievous smile spread across her lips as she uncoiled the cotton clothesline. She was in for a very fun night, indeed.


	24. A Big Treat

“Personally, I prefer Mel Tormé.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet hurried to the door. DIDS was barely hanging on to the back of her shirt, bouncing against her back and squeaking with alarm. Harriet had leapt to her feet the moment she heard the doorbell ring with Remus’ characteristic chime, giving the toy no time to jump off.

_Aren’t we eager?_ Harriet heard Queenie’s gentle voice in her head.

_Maybe…?_ Harriet thought back as she opened the door.

Queenie was smiling gently; her arm hooked in Remus’.

“Such a gentleman,” Queenie said, patting Remus’ hand.

Remus smiled. “It is my pleasure.”

“A gentleman who finally needs to tell that feisty young lady in your headquarters he feels the exact same way about her as she does ‘bout him,” Queenie said shrewdly.

Remus scoffed and was about to open his mouth when Queenie held up a hand.

“Ah-ah-ah,” she tutted. “I certainly didn’t need my Legilimency to tell me that, young man. I know all too well the dance between a young lady trying to catch a man’s eye, and a man too afraid to show his true feelin’s.”

“Remus,” Harriet groaned. “You’re not still dragging your feet with Tonks, are you?”

Remus’ usually pale face rapidly turned a shade of red that would have made roses jealous.

“Th-this is not—I don’t—”

“It’s alright, Remus dear,” Queenie said reaching up and patting his cheek. “It’s us old ladies’ job to tease handsome young men.”

Harriet giggled.

Remus cleared his throat awkwardly.

“I—yes—well, I shall be off. Have a good afternoon.”

“Oh, we will,” Queenie smiled, waving a frail hand at him.

Remus cleared his throat again and closed the door behind him. Queenie’s eyes were twinkling as she looked back at Harriet. Harriet giggled, taking the basket of ingredients from Queenie. She was particularly excited, as Queenie had told Harriet they would be learning to make an apple pie today: a family recipe, apparently.

“I do so love to nudge people into love,” Queenie said as they made their way to the kitchen. “The world needs so much more of it.”

“Did you really not need Legilimency?” Harriet asked, shrewdly.

“Hand on my heart, honey,” Queenie said slyly. “A blind person could see those two are crazy for each other.”

Harriet giggled again. “I can tell Tonks likes him, and Remus said something about ‘settling down’ at my parents’ wedding…”

Harriet’s face fell remembering the wedding reception. She shivered. Queenie put a kindly hand on Harriet’s shoulder.

“Now, now, enough of those thoughts,” Queenie said gently. “We’re here to have fun. Warm, fresh, tart and sweet fun.”

Queenie winked, pulling a slice of apple from the bag. Harriet could smell the apples, her mouth already watering.

They set everything out on the kitchen table.

_Now,_ Queenie’s thoughts rang in Harriet’s mind as she began dolling some flour into a bowl, _this recipe takes a bit longer, so we’ll have more time to talk. Jacob’s own recipe this, so it’s extra special._

_Cool,_ Harriet thought back.

_This also means we’ll have a bit more time for proper lessons._

_Proper lessons?_

_That’s right,_ Queenie replied, _we’re going to see about getting you more in control of your powers._

There was a skittering sound as DIDS hopped off Harriet’s shoulder onto the table. He started sniffling around the ingredients.

“Well hello there,” Queenie said, bending low over the little dragon. “Aren’t you just precious.”

DIDS did his customary hiss and flared his wings, but Queenie seemed neither surprised nor worried.

 “About what you expect from a dragon,” Queenie laughed, returning to her cooking.

“He doesn’t like anybody but me,” Harriet replied.

“That’s a sign you love him,” Queenie replied.

Harriet smiled scratching DIDS’ back between his wings.

“What’s his name?”

“DIDS,” Harriet said.

“Cutie,” Queenie said sweetly. “How’d you come by that name?”

Harriet grimaced. “I meant to call him Dragon Of Diminutive Size, but I got it kinda switched up and spelt it wrong, now he doesn’t answer to anything else.”

The two set to work on the pie. Queenie walked Harriet through preparing the dough. The nutmeg and cinnamon filled the kitchen with a warm scent that relaxed Harriet’s mind greatly.

Queenie put the dough into the icebox.

“Now we let that cool, and we can get some work done,” Queenie said, sitting at the kitchen table.

“What are we going to work on first?”

Queenie smiled. “First ya need to start working on feelin’ minds.”

Harriet twisted her lips.

“I think you need to become more comfortable with who you are,” Queenie said putting a comforting hand on Harriet’s. “The hard news is there’s no shuttin’ this out, sweetie. There’s no comin’ back from it. It’s part of who you are. Somethin’ that makes you-you. It’s somethin’ special.”

Harriet was far from reassured. Indeed, something else to make her ‘different’ was the last thing she wanted.

“Ain’t none of us choose what happens to us, honey,” Queenie said with sadness that didn’t suit her. “Whether you wanna call it fate, or destiny, or just the cards that life deals ya, it’s up to use to make the most of them. That’s where we have our control and our strength. Look at you.”

“Look at me?”

Queenie’s smile returned. “Yes, honey, you. You’ve gone through so much pain, the scars of it are still there in your mind… but you’ve gotten what you’ve always wanted, haven’t you?”

Harriet stared.

“You haven’t let life just happen to ya. You’ve gone out and grabbed what you wanted. You always wanted a family, and now you got one. You never had any friends, and now you have so many.”

Harriet found she couldn’t meet Queenie’s eyes. It was true, but Harriet somehow couldn’t bring herself to accept it. After all, her friends more found her than she sought them out, right?

“You’ve been taught for so long to doubt yourself,” Queenie said giving Harriet’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “It’s high time we changed that. You’re a smart, talented young woman, Harriet. You can do anything you set your mind to.”

Harriet took a calming breath and nodded. She can do it.

“Okay, so how do we start?” Harriet asked, both wanting to get started and change the subject.

“Legilimency ain’t so much about thinkin’ as it is about feelin’,” Queenie explained. “You have to let go. First, close your eyes.”

Harriet nodded and obliged.

“Focus on your other feelin’s. Feel the wood of the table under your hand. Smell the cinnamon and nutmeg. Hear my voice. It’s all part of the world, stuff we usually tune out.”

Harriet thought. “Is that why when you look in someone else’s memory you can see other things? Things happening that the person in the memory wasn’t paying any attention to?”

“That’s exactly why, honey,” Queenie said, sounding encouraged. “All this stuff is picked up with our minds; we just learn not to focus on it.”

Harriet took more calming breaths as Sebastian had taught her. Not because she was upset, but she thought it would help her focus.

“But I thought Legilimency needed eye-contact?” Harriet asked.

“If you’re doin’ it as a direct spell, then yeah,” Queenie confirmed. “But for us it’s different. We’re special. Now, tell me how I’m feelin’?”

Harriet took another slow breath. She felt Queenie’s hand. She imagined where Queenie was. She listened to the gentle tick of the clock on the counter. She could hear the oven heating up. Ever so slightly, Harriet felt her mood change. She felt burdened and older. She felt lonely.

“Good,” Queenie said.

“What?” Harriet asked, opening her eyes.

“That was good,” Queenie said.

“Was I feeling your mind?” Harriet asked.

“You were,” Queenie confirmed, though she apparently was not going to go into details on what she’d been feeling.

“That was weird,” Harriet said. “I felt like I was the one feeling them…”

“You were,” Queenie said. “Part of what makes it more difficult than learnin’ other senses. You’re takin’ another person’s feelin’s and thoughts into your own head. It’s harder to sort out. Often leads to mood swings cuz we pick up what someone else is feelin’, and we don’t realise it ain’t our own.”

Harriet nodded.

“How come I don’t feel those louder thoughts all the time,” Harriet said, before thinking: _Like this?_

Queenie smiled more. _It’s harder to shut stuff out when you’re upset or in heightened states of emotion. So if you’re upset or excited, it’s easier to let them slip in. It’s harder in the magic world too cuz most folks keep their minds as closed as they can, even if they ain’t all that good at Occlumency. They’s always mindful of it, and it gives them a bit of an edge. In the Muggle world, it ain’t as easy._

Harriet digested this. It made sense. She was unsettled the day of the wedding when they went into town, and then they were among Muggles. But why would Muggles have been thinking about her? Then she was agitated that past Monday when she went back to Hogwarts.

“You think you’re ready to try again?” Queenie asked.

“Yes,” Harriet agreed.

“Good,” Queenie nodded. “Close your eyes again and open your mind.”

Harriet did so. She focused on relaxing. She thought this was more like she was feeling the world around her with her mind than merely seeing it.

_She was in a memory. That much she was sure of. She was walking through a large house she didn’t recognise. There were old magical paintings on the walls, and it was all dimly lit. There was the scratching of scribbling quills nearby._

_Harriet tried to leave. She shouldn’t be looking at Queenie’s memories like this. She was only supposed to be sensing Queenie’s feelings and emotions._

_She couldn’t. Harriet tried to free her mind and come back to her senses, but she was stuck._

_She emerged into a large parlour. There were desks set in rows, each with a person bent over it, writing feverishly._

_Upon Harriet’s entrance into the room, the people at the desks rose in unison and held up and out their left arms. Harriet gasped at the sight. Their sleeves all slid down, each revealing a Death Eater’s mark._

_“Our Lord,” the Death Eaters said in unison._

_Harriet said nothing, merely raised a hand in acknowledgement as the Death Eaters sat again and resumed their work. Harriet walked amongst them, up and down the rows. They were all writing out posters and pamphlets._

_Harriet picked-up one of the posters. It showed Cornelius Fudge sneering with pointed teeth as he handed a sack of galleons to an equally sinister looking Solomon Kinney. A scroll across the top read:_

 

Solomon Kinney: The Ministry’s Manufactured Crisis

_Harriet felt herself smile. Then, she saw noticed her hand. Her skin was ghost-white, her fingers were long and skeletal. Harriet would never forget that hand._

_Voldemort’s hand._

Harriet hit the floor. She shouted in pain as her foot kicked the underside of the table. The pain brought her back to her senses.

She was lying on her back on the floor. Her leg was sprawled over the toppled chair she’d been sitting on. She sat up as best she could, rubbing the back of her head.

Where was Queenie? Harriet looked around and saw Queenie on her feet. However, she had not moved to help Harriet it didn’t seem. Instead, she was standing a few feet back. Her chair was also tipped over, though unlike Harriet she had kept her footing.

Queenie was bent over, leaning on the kitchen counter. Her face was buried in her free hand.

“So much hate,” Queenie whimpered. “So much anger…”

Harriet grunted getting to her feet. Somehow, she’d found herself back in Lord Voldemort’s mind. It must have been her opening her mind. Professor Snape’s Occlumency lessons had always focused on her closing it.

“Oh, Harriet,” Queenie said, recovering her senses as little, though she still sounded shaken and dismayed.

“Queenie?”

“That was him… that was his mind, wasn’t it…?”

“It was…” Harriet said, getting to her feet. “I haven’t seen inside his mind like that in a long time… he was…” Harriet thought, then grimaced. “Happy…”

“He’s the one then… the one behind all them posters…”

“Posters?” Harriet asked, righting Queenie’s chair and helping her back into it.

“They’s scattered all around Britain… Diagon Alley… even Hogsmeade now. They just started goin’ up this week.”

Harriet’s hands tightened angrily on her chair as she set it upright again. So, Voldemort was still at it. He was still undermining the Ministry, and the Ministry was powerless to do anything against him because they refused to believe he’d returned.

Kinney, what was he playing at helping that monster return? Particularly if he was just going to turn around and betray him with Crouch, Jr?

Harriet remembered that Queenie was in the room. Queenie was looking at Harriet with a strange expression. It was impressed and yet pitying.

“What?”

“You are so strong…” Queenie said softly.

Harriet furrowed her brow. Strong? She’d fallen over at the realisation she was in Lord Voldemort’s mind.

Harriet thought more. Something was different that time. Most times she had visions of Voldemort she was floating somewhere nearby. This time it seemed she had been inside Voldemort’s head directly.

“To face that kind of anger and let it just wash over you…”

Harriet returned her attention to Queenie.

“What do you mean?” Harriet asked.

“What you saw was so strong that I saw it, too,” Queenie explained. “Wasn’t even tryin’…”

Harriet blinked. “You could?”

“I could…”

“What did it feel like?” Harriet asked, apprehensive.

“It was anger…” Queenie replied “and hatred… contempt for everything, not himself… a complete lack of love…”

“Huh… I didn’t feel any of that,” Harriet mused.

“That’s what I mean,” Queenie explained. “Your strength… you can ignore it… resist it… it’s amazing.”

Harriet looked down at her hands. She was strong? Queenie hadn’t fallen over, but Queenie did look terrified. Her hands were still shaking. Then again, Harriet had only fallen over in her surprise at realising she was in Voldemort’s mind.

No, Harriet wasn’t shaken. She wasn’t upset. Instead, she was already trying to figure out what Voldemort was up to. She was already trying to process.

“I think that will do for today,” Queenie said. “I-in the meantime… we can get back to the fun part.”

“The pie?” Harriet asked.

Queenie’s smile returned. “The pie.”

### * * * *

Harriet slept poorly. She couldn’t even bring herself to play or explore more of Finn’s memories. There was too much on her mind. What was Voldemort up to? What was Kinney up to? Where were they? Even Kinney had gone silent it seemed.

Also on her mind was the pending return to Hogwarts that Sunday. She was going back to the cauldron of crazy thoughts and whispered rumours. She was going back to Hogwarts where the Ministry was sticking its nose, and Umbridge was controlling other children who had already been through hell.

A gentle hand shook Harriet’s shoulder. She didn’t remember falling asleep, but apparently, she had done so.

“Mmm?” Harriet grunted, waking.

A candle feebly lighted the room. Dad was standing over her, smiling kindly.

“Morning, Harricane.”

“Dad,” Harriet said, sitting up and hugging him.

He chuckled. “Just ‘Dad’ now?”

Harriet flushed a little, remembering Krystelle’s remarks from the day before. She knew Krystelle had only been teasing (indeed, she thought it was something Dora might say) Harriet thought she had a point.

“Sorry, just… thought it seemed childish.”

Dad kept smiling ruffling Harriet’s hair. “It’s alright, hun.”

“What’s going on?” Harriet asked, yawning.

It was only Friday, and she wasn’t supposed to return to Hogwarts until Sunday. However, even in her exhausted state, Dad was radiating excitement, causing Harriet’s heart to quicken a little in response.

“Just came home early to spend a little time with you before you go back to Hogwarts,” Dad explained. “Got some Order business to attend to; thought you might like to come. A big treat, we’ll call it.”

Harriet was snapped awake at once. “Really?”

“Really,” Dad chuckled.

Harriet yawned again, sliding her legs out of bed.

“Take your time,” Dad said, heading for the door. “I think you’re going to find this interesting… in fact… this is sort of a big deal, so you might want to look nice.”

Dad gave Harriet an enigmatic little wink over his left shoulder and closed the door behind him.

Harriet did rush. She hurried into her bathroom, showering at top speed. She towelled off and dressed as fast as she could while still taking care to make sure her hair looked alright and her clothes were presentable. She decided on the outfit she’d worn when Grandma and Grandpa Sinistra arrived at Avalon.

What could be so important with the Order that Dad came all the way back to Britain? Harriet started getting more excited. Maybe Hagrid was back! Or Professor Sutler and Stratton. Perhaps even Dumbledore!

Though most of all she hoped it was Hagrid.

Even if Harriet had her issues with Dumbledore, having the most powerful wizard of the age back would certainly be a boon. Having him head the Order while Professor McGonagall handled Hogwarts and Umbridge would be the best, she thought. While Harriet didn’t approve of everything Professor McGonagall was doing with the Order, she did seem to have the gumption to deal with Umbridge.

Harriet did pause, looking at her reflection. She couldn’t fight off the rebellious little smile as she tied her bandana loosely around her neck. It had found ample use the last few nights. Harriet was appreciating having her own bedroom more than ever before.

She finally emerged into the hallway, following the sound of voices.

“Morning, honey,” Mum said as Harriet stepped into the entryway.

Harriet paused but smiled seeing twins as well. They caught each other halfway in a hug.

“We missed you!” the twins said in unison.

“I’ve missed you, too,” Harriet replied. “Are you coming, too?”

“That’s right,” Mum replied warmly.

Fully awake, Harriet finally got a good look at Dad. She blinked in surprise. His right eye was badly bruised.

“What happened to your eye?”

Dad’s lips twitched. “Had a bit of a disagreement in Banbridge last night,” he said evasively. “Just haven’t had time to put anything on it.”

Harriet furrowed her brow a little. Banbridge? Why was that name familiar?

“He won’t tell us, either,” Rosie said disappointedly.

“So, what is it? Is Hagrid back?” Harriet asked, hopeful. “Or Professor Sutler and Stratton? Or Dumbledore?”

“No spoiling the surprise, cheeky,” Dad chuckled, patting her cheek.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “Fine…”

Mum laughed and hugged Harriet warmly kissing her forehead. “We’re going to have a great time.”

Harriet looked back and forth between the two suspiciously.

“What are you two up to?”

Dad gasped melodramatically. “Me? Up to something?”

“Says a maker of the Marauder’s Map…” Rosie said.

Dad snorted another laugh and was about to ruffle Rosie’s hair, but she caught his hand, glaring. “I just spent five minutes on that…”

“Only five?” Dad winked.

Rosie stuck her tongue out at him but could only barely stop herself laughing.

“Alright you all,” Mum chuckled. “Arthur’s waiting.”

“Mr Weasley?”

“The same,” Mum replied.

This cheered Harriet even more. Mr Weasley was always a laugh, with his irrepressible cheerful attitude and Muggle fixation.

Dad opened the door and one at a time the family headed out onto the front step. Harriet shivered a little in the early dawn chill. She suddenly wished she’d worn a bit more clothes.          

“Ready?” Dad asked, rummaging in his pocket.

“Mmmhmmm,” Harriet nodded, stifling another yawn.

“Alright, off we go,” Dad grinned.

Harriet raised an eyebrow. Dad was acting way too excited about this. She was even more surprised when, instead of his wand, Dad produced a tattered bicycle seat.

“We’re not Apparating?” Nan asked.

“We’re going a bit farther than Hogsmeade this time,” Dad winked.

The three girls exchanged looks. Harriet could feel the excitement coming from her sisters.

The family all put touched the seat. Barely a second passed before they were off; the familiar, and highly unpleasant sensation of a hook and line tugging Harriet off her feet from just behind her navel. The world around them became the beautiful yet terrifying kaleidoscope of colours as they were hauled hundreds of miles in mere seconds. Harriet had to admit it was a tiny bit more tolerable than Apparating.

Harriet kept her feet as they landed. The world returned to normal. She became aware they were in a city but didn’t recognise where.

“Where are we?” Rosie asked, regaining her balance.

“London,” Dad smiled. “Just a few blocks from St Mungo’s.”

Harriet’s eyes snapped wide open. “St Mungo’s?! We’re going to see Sirius?!”

“We are,” Dad laughed as Harriet threw her arms around him.

Harriet hadn’t seen Sirius since the night they returned to Grimmauld Place. She hadn’t even tried the two-way mirror. She figured Sirius would not have it with him, and she didn’t know if he was even supposed to have it in the hospital, worrying the staff might confiscate it.

The group headed down the street. Dad was humming softly to himself as they walked. Harriet kept watching him out of the corner of her eye. He was in far too good a mood for someone who mere hours ago had been punched in the face.

“What song is that?” Harriet asked.

Daddy shrugged. “Dunno, honestly. Just heard it last night for the first time. Haven’t been able to get it out of my head since. Ah! Here we are.”

He didn’t have to point it out. Mr Weasley was standing next to an old shop front, waving at them cheerfully.

“Salutations, Dusk family!” Arthur called jovially.

“Hi, Mr Weasley!” Rosie called back, returning the wave.

Harriet recognised the disguised front of St Mungo’s at once. It was an old, red-brick department store named Purge & Dowse Ltd. The front window displays were decorated with a few mannequins, mostly dressed in garish clothes from the middle of the last decade, their wigs askew. The front door was plastered with signs that read: ‘Closed for Refurbishment.’

“Glad you all made it safe,” Mr Weasley said warmly as they reached him.

“Of course,” Dad said. “Just a Portkey hop.”

“That’s one word for it,” Nan said grumpily. She clearly didn’t care for Portkey travel, either.

Mr Weasley chuckled. “Well, now you’re all here safe, I’ll be off.”

“Off?” Harriet asked, a little disappointed.

“Oh yes,” Mr Weasley said, winking. “Have a vital mission to do.”

Harriet scrutinised his face. His eyes were twinkling with excitement in a way that told Harriet that whatever he was doing, it involved Muggles. Not only that, but he recently had a bloody nose.

“Anyway, he’s doing splendid,” Mr Weasley said. “He’s in good spirits, and he’s very excited to see you all.”

“We can’t wait,” Rosie beamed.

Dad patted her shoulder and stepped up to the glass.

“Dusk family to see Sirius Black.”

The mannequin nodded and beckoned them with its finger. As one, the family stepped into the enchanted barrier, much like the one that concealed Platform 9 and ¾ at King’s Cross. Harriet felt a tickling, chilled sensation as she passed through, but emerged on the other side warm and content.

They were in the reception area. It was quiet, unlike the night of Sirius’ injury when the place had been packed full of Order members. Another little family was sitting nearby, and an irritable looking young man who was struggling to turn the pages of a magazine with hands that had been turned into wellingtons.

“Dusk family,” Mum said to the receptionist. “Checking in to see Sirius Black.”

“Black… Black…” the receptionist said, her voice full of boredom scanning the list, “fourth-floor.”

“Off we go,” Dad said, a spring in his step as he headed off towards the stairs.

“Isn’t the fourth-floor ‘Spell Damage’?” Nan asked, reading the floor guide.

“It is,” Dad explained. “But they weren’t exactly sure where to put him. They decided on the fourth-floor as it has the best long-term care capabilities.”

Onward the family trudged up the steps. Along the way, portraits of healers called out to them, diagnosing mysterious ailments, except for one who seemed to think he was the one in trouble.

“Merciful Merlin!” the man declared, pointing at the twins. “I’ve come down with double-vision! A sure case of Scrofungulus!”

“We’re twins!” the pair shouted back in unison.

Finally, they reached the fourth floor. A door at the end of the hallway read: SPELL DAMAGE.

“This way, all,” Dad said, sounding even more excited. “Big day!”

Harriet felt as though she was bouncing as they neared the door. She was finally going to see Sirius again!

Dad knocked on the door.

“Can’t we just go in?” Rosie asked.

“They have to keep the door locked,” Mum explained. “Most of the patients inside aren’t quite… well, there’s a wandering danger.”

“Coming!” came a sweet voice from the other side of the door.

There was a clicking of a lock, and the door opened. A kindly looking healer opened the door smiling at them all.

“Hello again, Mr Dusk! And Mrs Dusk! Oh, and these must be your lovely children!”

“They are,” Dad beamed, spreading his arms around his family.

“Lovely to see you all, finally,” the healer said. “I’m Miriam Strout. Come in! Come in! We’re just about to get started!”

“Get started?” Harriet whispered to Dad.

Dad merely winked with his blackened eye.

“Goodness, Mr Dusk!” Healer Strout gasped, noticing. “Let me get something for that at once!”

“It’s fine, Miriam,” Dad said waving a dismissive hand. “Really.”

“V-very well,” Healer Strout said, hitching a smile back on her face. “Let’s not keep him waiting!”

Healer Strout stepped aside. Harriet was the first through the door.

“Lady Harriet!”

Kreacher hurried over towards them. Harriet was taken aback as the little elf hugged her around the knees. She did her best to embrace him in return by leaning down and putting her hands on his small shoulders.

“Hello, Kreacher,” Harriet replied.

Kreacher released Harriet, and she took in the room. She spotted Sirius’ bed at once, as it was surrounded by Order members.

Harriet hurried over. The crowd parted, and there he was, at long last. Sirius.

He was propped up in the bed and looked in surprisingly good spirits. He looked healthier than Harriet could remember seeing him. His hair looked silky and well washed. It had even been cut. His skin was clean, were not nearly as pallid, and his cheeks were filling out again. It seemed his time here at St Mungo’s, getting proper medical treatment, was doing wonders for him.

Remus was standing at Sirius’ left shoulder, Professor Spring on his right. Harriet felt an extra tickle of happiness as she noted Sirius holding Professor Spring’s hand.

Sirius saw her, and his face split into the widest grin Harriet thought she had ever seen.

“There she is!” Sirius said happily as Harriet reached him.

Harriet’s eyes were wet as she hugged Sirius tight around the shoulders.

“Careful, careful, now,” Remus chuckled. “He’s far from out of the woods yet.”

“Worth the risk,” Sirius smiled returning the hug.

“What’s going on?” Harriet asked, standing up again. “I’ve missed you…”

“Missed you too, kiddo,” Sirius smiled. “How’s life under the new regime—ah, that look tells me everything.”

“Uncle Sirius!” the twins grinned moving up to hug him, too.

“So what’s going on?” Harriet asked, looking around.

Sirius grinned. “Progress.”

“Progress?”

“Yes, remarkable progress,” said Healer Smethwyck, standing opposite Harriet with a clipboard.

“Watch this,” Sirius grinned, pointing towards his feet.

“Oh, wow!” Nan gasped.

Harriet’s heart soared at the sight. Sirius’ toes were clearly wriggling under the covers.

“And that’s not all,” Sirius said. “Get a load of this.”

Slowly, Sirius’ feet began to rock side to side. Nan, Rosie, and Harriet all gasped.

“So, this is real? You’re really going to get better?” Harriet asked.

“I really am,” Sirius’ grin grew. “But that’s not all, either.”

“Not all?” Nan blinked.

“You didn’t think I’d call you all here for some little foot wiggles, did you?” Sirius chuckled.

Harriet and her sisters exchanged a look. Healer Smethwyck pulled down the sheets from over Sirius’ lap. The crowd parted on the other side of the bed, and Harriet saw two rails. What was happening?

Healer Strout joined Healer Smethwyck, and together the pair helped Sirius into a sitting position. Harriet grimaced at the sight of Sirius’ legs. They still looked as gaunt and thin as he had been after escaping Azkaban.

“That’s it,” Healer Strout said kindly as she and Healer Smethwyck slowly turned Sirius’ legs out of bed.

“Steady on,” Healer Smethwyck encouraged as they let Sirius’ lower legs hang off the bed.

“I got it,” Sirius said. “It… it feels. I’m not sure how it feels, but I feel something…”

“Marvellous!” squeaked little Dedalus Diggle, who was standing with Sebastian’s ex-wife, Hannah.

Harriet couldn’t breathe. As she watched, the healers helped Sirius forward off the bed. They held him steady as he put his hands on the rails.

The room was deathly silent. Not even the other patients were making any noise. The only sound Harriet could hear was the creaking of the rails as Sirius held himself up on them with just his arms, his legs bent awkwardly under him. Harriet felt awkward and anxious. Weren’t they going to help Sirius right his legs? It had to be embarrassing.

“Left or right, first?” Healer Strout asked.

“Left, I think,” Sirius replied.

“When you’re ready.”

Sirius took a deep breath and held it. Harriet could feel his effort weighing on her mind.

“Brave Master, so strong,” Kreacher croaked near Harriet’s feet.

Harriet’s heart was in her throat. Slowly, shakily, Sirius’ left leg began to slide his left foot forward across the floor.

“Fantastic!” Hestia Jones declared.

“All on my own,” Sirius grinned. “I escaped Azkaban. I can beat this…”

“That’s right, darling,” Professor Spring said, moving around to the other end of the railings as if beckoning him towards her.

Sirius’ grin only grew. “Oh, careful now! Could be faking; just ready to pounce.”

“What a terrible fate,” Professor Spring flirted back.

Remus cleared his throat.

“Remus, mate,” Sirius grumbled. “A few weeks ago I was facing never being able to walk again. I don’t exactly care for propriety anymore.”

“Not that you ever did,” Dad chuckled.

Sirius grunted again. He was trying to will his right leg to move.

“Alright, now,” Healer Smethwyck said putting a hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “That’s enough for today, Sirius, old boy. You’re already passing all our expectations.”

Sirius sighed. “You’re right. Okay, back to bed.”

The Order all began applauding quietly as Sirius was helped back into bed. Harriet felt a bit of annoyance at the crowd over the less than enthusiastic response. Sirius had movement back in his legs. This was astounding.

Dad put a hand on her shoulder and nodded to the far end of the ward.

“We can’t be too loud,” he whispered to her. “It upsets the Longbottoms…”

Harriet’s stomach clenched. She’d forgotten that Neville’s parents were staying here as well. They had been tortured into insanity shortly after Lord Voldemort’s fall by Bellatrix Lestrange and a few other Death Eaters.

Harriet craned her neck, trying to see the Longbottoms, but the curtains were drawn around their beds.

“I hate to seem rude,” Sirius said to the group at large, “but as it’s about breakfast time, would everyone mind terribly if I finally had some alone time to catch up with my goddaughter?”

“Not at’tall,” Dad said putting his hand on Sirius’ shoulder. “We’ll head up to the tearoom for some tea and breakfast, you two can chat.”

“Thanks,” Harriet smiled.

“What treat can I sneak you?” Professor Spring asked, winking at Sirius.

“Your smiling face when you return,” Sirius said, returning her wink and kissing the top of her hand, tenderly.

Harriet watched the group move off. Nan and Rosie looked a little jealous that Harriet got to stay behind, but Harriet really wanted some time with Sirius.

“So, how have things been with Umbitch?” Sirius asked.

Harriet snorted. “Umbitch?”

Sirius’ grinned maliciously.

“Oh, I’m so spreading that as far as I can…”

“That’s my girl,” Sirius smirked. “So, I’ve heard things aren’t exactly stellar at the old castle?”

Harriet glowered. “No… I’ve been kicked out of the Gryffindor dorms for being too dangerous…”

“And for wrecking Snape’s office…” Sirius said, his eyes blazing with pride.

Harriet rolled her eyes. “I’m not entirely proud of that…”

“I bloody am.”

“Didn’t you and him make up?”

Sirius twiddled his thumbs. “Did we? We may have promised not to fight openly, but I can still smirk smugly at the thought of his precious potions supplies smashed to bits… as I’m sure he does thinking of me laid up here.”

Sirius gave Harriet a searching look. “What _did_ bring that on…?”

Harriet couldn’t meet his eyes.

“What…?”

“I…” Harriet bit her lip.

Who could she tell? How could she tell? On the one hand, it was Professor Snape who told Lord Voldemort the prophecy that sent Voldemort to kill Harriet and her parents. On the other hand, he hadn’t known Voldemort would pick Harriet’s family. Hadn’t it been his feelings for Harriet’s mother that turned him over to the good side after Lord Voldemort chose? And Professor Dumbledore had kept trusting him; had even given him a teaching position at Hogwarts.

“Just… saw some bad memories,” Harriet said. “Lost control…”

“I see…” Sirius said, clearly not believing her, but he said no more on the matter.

“How’s life here in the hospital?” Harriet asked. “I thought about trying the two-way.”

“Gah, don’t have it here anyway,” Sirius admitted, confirming Harriet’s suspicion. “Could have someone go pick it up, I suppose.”

“I’d like that,” Harriet said. “Got used to having you to talk to.”

“I am pretty likeable.”

Harriet laughed.

“Kreacher?”

“Yes, Master?”

Harriet started. She’d almost forgotten the little elf was there. He was slipping back into his house-elf role of being neither seen nor heard quite well, it seemed.

“Would you please go back to Grimmauld Place and fetch my two-way mirror for me? It is in my old room, on the shelf.”

“Yes, my master,” Kreacher bowed before turning and leaving.

Sirius chuckled as the elf left. “Caused a hell of a fuss the first time I sent him somewhere after coming here. He disapparated and caused a panic from the noise.”

Harriet giggled rolling her eyes, sitting in the chair beside Sirius bed.

“Anyway, I want you to promise me something,” Sirius said.

“What?”

“Don’t pull away from your friends,” Sirius said. “Trust them. They’re not perfect—no one is—but you need allies.”

Harriet raised an eyebrow.

“The Ministry is up to something. I’ve had ample time to read the papers while laid up here. Voldemort’s up to something, too. Every day in _The Prophet_ there’s more and more ads about the problems of the Ministry.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. “ _The Prophet_ is printing anti-Ministry ads? I thought the Ministry was leaning on _The Prophet_ to keep it from printing stuff about Voldemort?”

Sirius snorted derisively. “Welcome to media for profit. They get exclusive scoops from the Ministry for stories in exchange for keeping their mouths shut, and at the same time take in fat sacks of galleons from Voldemort’s richer supporters to run ads.”

Harriet felt a little sick to her stomach.

“Don’t make the same mistakes we did,” Sirius said, steering the topic back. “Trust your friends.”

“You all trusted Pettigrew…”

Sirius grimaced. “We were terrible to Peter…” Sirius admitted. “He was a chubby little arse-kissing git… we never treated him like he was really part of the group. Daniel and Remus were the kindest to him, but really he was just some tag-along…”

The pair fell quiet again.

“What I’m saying is… you need your friends. You need lots of friends. Friends and allies. This year more than any other. You’re facing the Ministry and Voldemort at school this year.”

Harriet twisted her lips, thinking about her friends. They were usually there for her, but they were always so protective.

“They’ll follow you, Harriet,” Sirius said. “You’re an uniter. You’re someone people trust and want to be around. You’re kind… and that can sometimes make people defensive of you… protective.”

“That’s them, alright… I’ve faced dragons, dementors, Voldemort like three times…”

“Well then this year it’s time to show them you’re Harriet goddamn Potter,” Sirius grinned. “And kick the Ministry’s arse right out of Hogwarts.”

Harriet raised an eyebrow. “Why do I feel like you’re winding me up to something?”

Sirius’ smirk grew wider. “Me? Instigate children into open rebellion against the Ministry taking over Hogwarts? Perish the thought!”

### * * * *

Harriet’s mind was very full upon their return to Mountain Home. Sirius wanted them to rebel against the Ministry? Harriet was sure Dad wouldn’t approve of that. Or maybe he would. Umbridge certainly gave Harriet the chills. Harriet had met her several times before, and none of them had been all that good.

She had assumed a group of vampires had killed the old headmaster of Durmstrang just because they were vampires, even after they offered to help find Kinney. She drafted legislation that made it impossible for bitten werewolves like Remus to get jobs. She tried to keep Sirius in Azkaban during his trial. Now she was screwing with the memories of Rathlin students who’d already been terrorised by the Ministry.

The twins were staying home that night, which did cheer Harriet a lot. They filled her in on everything that had been happening at Hogwarts in her absence.

“Umbridge is taking over everything she can,” Nan said.

“I heard she’s inspecting lessons,” Harriet said grimly.

“It’s the worst,” Rosie said. “She’s horrible to Professor Spring.”

“She’s horrible to anyone Dumbledore hired,” Nan said. “And Dumbledore isn’t even here anymore!”

“Professor Spring seems to be doing okay, though,” Harriet said.

“Yeah, she’s awesome,” Nan agreed. “You know her; nothing gets her spirits down. I think it makes Umbridge even angrier.”

“We haven’t really found out anything more about Umbridge House,” Rosie said changing the subject a little. “My friend Niamh is still swearing up and down Umbridge is great and won’t hear anything bad against her.”

“Lots of the Rathlin kids are getting like that. It’s like they fall in love with her more every day.”

Harriet rubbed her cheek, thinking. What did that mean? Harriet didn’t have time to dwell on that further, for at that moment Dad knocked on the door.

“Evenin’ ladies,” Dad smiled. “Would you all mind terribly if I borrowed Harriet for a bit?”

“What’s up?” Harriet asked.

“Oh, nothing,” Dad said quickly. “Nothing. Just want to talk a bit before taking you back to school tomorrow.”

“Okay then,” Harriet said, getting to her feet.

Had Dad somehow overheard Sirius and Harriet talking? Was he going to warn Harriet not to get involved with the Ministry? Tell her that she should keep her head down? That felt like what everyone would tell her.

Dad led her down the hallway towards the living room. Another thought crossed her mind.

“Are you going to tell me what happened to your eye finally? And why you aren’t letting anyone fix it?”

“That might be part of it,” Dad said evasively.

Harriet raised an eyebrow, but Dad said no more as he entered the living room. Harriet followed him inside. Mum was standing beside the fireplace, the tin of Floo Powder in her hand.

“Okay… what’s going on…?” Harriet asked, her suspicion rising. “Are we going to Avalon?”

“You two are,” Mum said, holding out the tin to Dad.

“What?”

Dad put a gentle hand on Harriet’s shoulder.

“Relax, sweetie,” he said, chuckling. “It’s just us. We’re not doing anything terrible. It’s your last big treat of the day.”

Harriet flushed. “Sorry, just… used to surprises not being pleasant ones…”

“And now you have a family, so surprises are going to be like the one you got today visiting Sirius,” Mum said gently brushing back some of Harriet’s hair for her.

Harriet felt her tension leave her body. Mum just smiled and put her hands-on Harriet’s shoulders, leaning down and kissing her forehead.

“You’re going to love this,” Mum said.

“Thanks,” Harriet smiled.

She was excited to get back to Avalon. She could see Bill again, and maybe try to get more information out of Castillon. For instance, what was that vial he showed her just before she left? Was it more Elixir of Life? Had he not given it all to her after all?

Dad aimed his wand at the fireplace. At once, flames roared to life in it. He took a pinch of the Floo Powder and tossed it into the fire. The flames blazed into a brilliant green.

“After you,” Dad said.

Harriet took a breath. She was about to say “Avalon” when she remembered Dad telling her she did not have to. She stepped into the green flames.

At once she was whisked off her feet. She was hurtling forward, down a long, dark tunnel towards a pinprick of light in the distance. Harriet found herself wondering whether there was any form of magical travel besides broomsticks that was remotely pleasant.

Harriet’s feet skidded a couple of inches across a polished floor. Strong hands caught her shoulders, steadying her. It took Harriet a second to realise they were furred.

“Steady on,” came Sebastian’s voice.

Harriet smiled up at him as he guided her out of the way, Dad swirling out of the fireplace right after her.

“Hello, Sebastian.”

“Hello, hello,” Sebastian replied.

“Welcome back,” came the deep yet surprisingly gentle voice of Mr Flamel.

“Bonjour, Mr Flamel,” Harriet said, smiling up at him.

“The craftsmanship,” spoke Mr Weasley’s voice.

Harriet saw him marvelling over one of Castillon’s clocks on a nearby buffet. “It’s astounding… and not a hint of magic!”

They were in a large parlour that Harriet did not remember seeing while here over the summer, which was hardly surprising given Avalon’s size. It looked very comfortable, much cosier than most of Avalon she had seen. Sebastian was standing beside Harriet, while Mr Flamel was standing near the door.

“Is everything ready?” Dad asked.

“It is indeed,” Sebastian said.

“Okay, seriously, is what ready?”

“This way,” Mr Flamel said, gesturing to the door.

“Oh, right,” Mr Weasley said recovering himself. “Hello again, Harriet.”

“Hello again, Mr Weasley.”

Dad gave Harriet an encouraging nod, and she followed Mr Flamel from the room. As they got into the hallway, Harriet realised that this was the little room where she had overheard Mr and Mrs Flamel discussing Mr Gatsby’s failed experiments, shortly before she and Fern uncovered the truth that it was one of the Flamel’s house-elves, Beauregard, sabotaging the demonstrations.

Harriet felt a twinge of pain. She missed Fern. She missed the way Fern encouraged her. The glint of excitement in Fern’s eyes at the thought of an adventure.

Harriet kept her eyes peeled as they headed across the ground floor. She didn’t expect to see Castillon or the other house-elves just out and about, but she still hoped.

What was here that was so exciting? Harriet glanced up at Dad. Mischief crept into her mind, and she focused on the side of his head. She caught an image of a dark street.

“Oye,” Dad chuckled and gave Harriet a little poke in the side with his thumb. “Keep out, you! No cheating.”

Harriet yelped a little, but Dad merely grinned and the group moved on. Harriet looked up the staircase towards the portrait of Bill Shakespeare. To her delight, they started up them.

“I should probably be the first in,” Dad said as they reached the top of the stairs.

“Yes, that would be advisable,” Sebastian chuckled.

“First in where?”

The three men only grinned in response.

“Ah, she has returned.”

“Hello, Bill,” Harriet smiled as they passed his portrait. “I’m so sorry I didn’t get to say goodbye last time.”

“Such is the life of a travelling heroine,” Shakespeare bowed to her. “But I shall not delay your surprise any longer.”

“So everyone knows but me?”

“That’s kind of the point of a surprise, isn’t it?” Dad teased.

 

_“What’s so amazing_

_That keeps us stargazing_

_And what do we think we might see…?”_

 

Harriet froze. It was the same song Dad was humming that morning on the way to St Mungo’s. But that wasn’t what mattered. It was that voice.

 

_“Someday we’ll find it_

_The rainbow connection_

_The lovers, the dreamers, and me.”_

 

Harriet slowly looked up at Dad. His eyes were a little over-bright.

Harriet didn’t remember starting to run, but that was how she found herself an instant later. The long area rugs slipped a little under her, but she paid them no mind. She went from room to room, following the voice.

 

_“I’ve heard it too many times to ignore it_

_It’s something that I’m supposed to be_

_Someday we’ll find it_

_The rainbow connection_

_The lovers, the dreamers, and me.”_

 

Harriet skidded to a halt. The voice was coming from the last room on the left. The door was mostly closed.

“Beautiful,” Harriet heard Mrs Flamel “Thank you.”

“Heard it…” said singing voice. “Dunno where. Heard it again. Makes me happy.”

“As it should,” Mrs Flamel continued.

Dad put a gentle hand on Harriet’s shoulder.

“Let me go in first, honey,” Dad said under his breath. “He’ll recognise me. Why I kept the black eye.”

Harriet couldn’t think. She wasn’t sure if she was trembling or utterly incapable of movement. Dad squeezed her shoulder and slowly pushed the door open.

Harriet couldn’t see the occupants of the room as Dad stepped inside.

“WHO’RE YOU?!”

“It’s okay; it’s okay lad,” Dad said. “Remember? Remember me? See the eye? Clocked me good, didn’t you?”

“I’ll say,” Mr Weasley said, pointing to his face. “I was brought along as a Muggle expert, and he did a number on my nose! The poor chap really didn’t want to leave Banbridge!”

“I’ve brought someone to see you,” Dad said. “I brought you the Star.”

“Star’s in Banbridge.”

“No, mate… no, she’s here. She’s right outside that door.”

The room fell silent.

“Outside that door?”

“That very door.”

More silence followed.

“Want to go to her, or have her come in?”

Harriet couldn’t breathe. She heard a chair move. Slow footsteps were coming closer. The handle jiggled as someone took hold of the other side. The door hesitated, then slowly pulled open.

Harriet’s eyes were misting over, but she recognised his face, even through his long, curly overgrown hair and his several months’ growth of beard.

Finn. His bright blue eyes were staring right back down into Harriet’s.

“Jaysus,” Finn slowly drawled. “Mate, she’s a feckin’ _angel_ …”


	25. Finnegus Found

“The boy has a way with words…”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

 

Harriet’s world was stopped. Her brain was stopped. She wasn’t even entirely sure she was breathing. Her heart seemed to have quit, too. She was standing in stasis.

The pair kept looking in each other’s eyes. There was no wall in Finn’s eyes. She felt him trying. He was aching to remember.

But he couldn’t.

“This is Harriet,” Dad said, standing behind Finn, putting a gentle hand on his shoulder. “She’s my daughter.”

“She’s beautiful…” Finn mumbled.

Finn’s eyes moved over the rest of Harriet, taking in her outfit.

“Beautiful…”

Harriet looked him over in turn. The last three months had wrought a considerable change on his body. Harriet would have expected him to look gaunt like Sirius had, but instead, he looked more akin to Charlie Weasley. His shoulders seemed even broader, and his arms were thicker and more powerful. Harriet also noticed his nose was a bit crooked.

Finn’s eyes narrowed. Harriet felt panic and suspicion rising in her mind.

“This is another trick, isn’t it?” Finn asked, his eyes moving from face to face.

“No, my boy, no trick,” Mr Weasley said.

Mr Weasley’s voice was kind, but out of the corners of her eyes, Harriet noticed him and Mr Flamel starting to act on edge, and their hands were drifting towards their wands.

“I’m still in hell, aren’t I? Aren’t I?!” Finn demanded, spinning in circles, putting up his fists.

“You’re not in hell,” Mrs Flamel said. “You’re safe. This is called Avalon.”

“Stay back!” Finn demanded.

“Just relax, son,” Dad said, his wand at the ready.

“There’s a fecking cat-monster!” Finn pointed at Sebastian. “A demon!”

“He’s no demon,” Mrs Flamel soothed. “You’re safe… the Star has found you, we promise.”

Finn’s eyes found Harriet’s again. Harriet still couldn’t move. She couldn’t think. The combination of her pain and Finn’s fear was paralytic.

Finn deflated. Tears filled his blue but bloodshot, bag-wearing eyes and inexplicably, he sank to the floor. He leaned back against the door frame and broke down.

“I’m sorry,” Finn said. “I don’t know what I did while I was alive to deserve this but I’m sorry… God, please! Jesus! Mary!”

The room was quiet apart from Finn’s despairing sobs. Harriet slowly knelt beside him.

“I can’t take it,” Finn whimpered. “I can’t take more… Stop tempting me! Stop…”

“Finn…” Harriet said barely loud enough she could hear herself.

“I repent,” Finn continued. “Sweet mother Mary forgive me… I’ll stop thinking the Devil’s thoughts…”

Harriet rested a hand on Finn’s arm as delicately as she could. Finn looked up at her through wet eyes. Harriet looked back into them, wishing she could will calmness into him, quiet his tormented mind.

Instead, Harriet suddenly had the sensation she was looking in a mirror. She was looking back at her own face, except the bandanna she wore around her neck was instead being pulled tight between her teeth.

“NO!” Finn shouted tugging away and trying to scramble to his feet again. “I won’t sin! Won’t think those thoughts! Don’t tempt me!”

Harriet was staring. What had just happened? Had she seen Finn’s thoughts? Did it mean what she now thought it meant?

Sebastian was whispering to Mr Weasley. Harriet watched as Sebastian passed Mr Weasley a small vial. Harriet recognised it as a calming draught.

“Here, lad,” Mr Weasley said gently. “Drink this. This’ll make the nightmares stop.”

“Trying to poison me!” Finn shouted, trying to swat away the vial Mr Weasley was offering.

“No trick,” Dad said, kneeling beside him. “No trick… besides, if this were Hell and you were dead, we couldn’t poison you. Can’t kill you if you’re already dead.”

Finn digested that.

“We’re trying to save you,” Dad continued. “Something terrible happened to you, and we’re trying to help you get better. There are people who love you and have been worried sick about you who’re going to be so happy you’re safe.”

Dad gave Harriet a little smile before reaching over and putting a hand on her shoulder. “Just like her…”

“Like her?” Finn asked, now unable to meet Harriet’s eyes.

“That’s right,” Dad confirmed. “You’re very important to her… you’ve done amazing things for her in the past. You didn’t sin in the past… you didn’t do anything to deserve the hell you’ve been through these last few months… Terrible people did this to you, and we’re going to help you, then get them for it.”

Finn looked up at Dad. Harriet could feel him starting to calm. Mr Weasley held out the vial.

“Just a quick swig, my boy,” Mr Weasley offered. “It’ll calm your mind, help you relax. Maybe even get a little sleep. Sleep in a nice, real bed. That sounds nice, doesn’t it?”

“Does…” Finn mumbled.

Slowly, Finn reached up a trembling hand for the vial.

“Easy, steady on,” Mr Weasley cautioned kindly as Finn took it. “Don’t spill.”

“Won’t,” Finn grunted.

He put the vial to his lips and once more his eyes found Harriet’s.

_So beautiful… you made her look so… the hell is wrong with you…? You meant something to her… she knows you… knew you…_

“Please, Finn,” Harriet whispered.

Ever so gently, she reached out. Finn didn’t pull away as she rested her hand on his cheek. His beard was a bit springy to the touch, but she didn’t mind.

“I’ll help you… just drink… drink and sleep. You’re safe, and that makes me so happy…”

“Happy,” Finn mumbled. He looked down at the vial, took a deep breath, and drained it in one gulp.

“There’s a good lad,” Mr Weasley said.

“Whoa, works fast…” Finn said, his head lolling a bit.

“That it does,” Dad chuckled, putting his wand away.

“She’s so beautiful,” Finn said, still looking back at Harriet.

“Thank you…” Harriet replied; the only thing she could think to say.

“A star… an angel…”

Finn’s eyes closed. His breathing slowed. Within seconds, he was asleep.

### * * * *

It was nearly midnight. Finn was still sound asleep, laying on a bed in one of the Flamel’s guest bedrooms. Harriet was sitting by his side. She hadn’t left since Dad, and Mr Flamel carried him in.

Beside her on the table was the Pensieve. Finn’s memories were in her lap. For once, Harriet no longer thought of the memories as Finn. He was really here. He was right there, sleeping mere feet away.

Occasionally he would dream. Harriet couldn’t make heads or tails of them. She’d catch images, and emotions. Once or twice her face popped up.

Harriet didn’t entirely want to peer into his dreams, but she was having a hard time helping herself. She was exhausted, and it seemed the exhaustion combined with Finn’s sleeping mind made it impossible for her not to get flashes of his thoughts and dreams.

“Nnnn… No…”

Finn tossed more. He grunted and whimpered. Harriet roused, fully awake, moving to his side.

“Finn…”

Harriet rested her hand on his forehead.

_The room was dark. There was grunting and shouting. Harriet’s stomach hurt._

_“Fight, Tinker!”_

_A blow hit Harriet’s face. She stumbled backwards into some lockers which clanged loudly._

_“I don’t wanna…”_

_It was one of Finn’s new memories._

_“You wanna eat, don’t you?” the shadowy form over her said. “Then earn it.”_

_“Lay off,” another voice said. “He’s new, mate.”_

_“He’s lazy, and a coward. He’ll fight other bums but just fucks off in the ring.”_

Harriet jerked her hand off Finn’s forehead, and the vision went away.

“Oh, Finn…” Harriet said.

What had he been through? Where had he been? Was this really Finn lying there on the bed before her? He seemed so different, not that Harriet hadn’t expected that.

_Click_.

Harriet’s chest froze. She knew that click. Castillon was right outside the door.

_Knock._

The single rap was faint but unmistakable. Harriet rose and walked softly to the door. There indeed was little Castillon, leaning heavily on his fancy cane.

“Good evening, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Castillon said, shakily bowing. “I thought I would find you still awake.”

Harriet stared at the ancient elf. He did not look older than the last time Harriet had seen him, but he felt that way. He hadn’t been quite so shaky, and he looked shorter, more stooped.

“Hello,” Harriet replied.

“I thought we might have a little chat,” Castillon said.

“I would like that,” Harriet replied.

She closed the door behind her as quietly as she could and turned back to Castillon. She was more than a little amused to see he had already conjured himself a tiny recliner, just propping up his oversized feet on the footrest.

“I am dying, Miss Potter-Dusk,” Castillon said abruptly.

Harriet’s eyes widened.

“I’ve far overstayed my welcome in this world…” he continued, his already high-pitched voice even wheezier.

“But don’t you still have a vial?”

Castillon shook his head. “I took the time to study you while you were here, Miss Potter-Dusk,” he said shrewdly, studying her with one large but dim eye.

“Study me?”

“I knew you would be someone who would use the Elixir for a good purpose…” Castillon wheezed. “But also that you would be hesitant to use it…”

Castillon dabbed his wrinkled forehead with a kerchief. “I had no one to give the rest to… and no longer wish to use it on myself. The Flamel name is in good hands with Charles… he no longer needs me.”

“No longer needs you?” Harriet asked. “He loves you… the Flamels all love you, they all need you.”

Castillon gave her a pitying smile. “Life is meaningless without death, Miss Potter-Dusk… we are all dying; each and every living thing. It is the way of the world. It is a balance. The old makes way for the new…”

Castillon coughed. “The Flamels will be sad, of course, they will. That is unavoidable… Just as the pain I felt when I, at long last, lost Nicolas…”

Harriet could think of nothing to say to this.

“But you… Miss Potter-Dusk… may I call you Harriet?”

“You may.”

“Harriet… you are someone special and selfless. I know you will use the Elixir to save another, rather than yourself. That is how Nicolas would have wanted his greatest discovery to be used…”

“Well of course,” Harriet spluttered, but Castillon held up a hand.

“However… I knew you would be reluctant to use it while I still live… being the one in the most immediate danger of expiring,” Castillon explained, some light finally twinkling in his eyes.

Harriet twisted her lips. He had a point.

“So… that vial you showed?”

“I banked on you thinking if I had more, you would feel more comfortable using the last of it,” Castillon explained. “A childish trick, but one I deemed necessary…”

Harriet shook her head.

“So that vial is it? The very last of it?”

“The very last,” Castillon said. “Please use it well.”

Harriet looked back towards the door to Finn’s room.

“I’m afraid not…”

“Pardon?”

Castillon gave Harriet a sad look. “I’m doubtful the elixir would do much to help him. Physically he is in excellent shape… his mind can only be fixed by compassion and care… that is something you, Harriet, certainly do not need the Elixir of Life to give.”

Harriet bit her lip, pondering that.

“But I have little doubt, given the challenges you face, that at some point you will have to use the elixir,” Castillon continued.

“That’s not exactly comforting,” Harriet muttered.

Castillon stifled a laugh. “It is not meant to be. It is a warning.”

Harriet chewed her lip more.

“Do not worry about me, Harriet,” Castillon said. “I implore you. There are people in this world who need you.”

Harriet had nothing to say, but much to consider.

“I hate to add more to your burdens,” Castillon said. “It is, assuredly, not my intention. Rather, I have seen your good heart. Your guilt over what happened to Nicolas and Perenelle… if you had the means to save someone but couldn’t… I fear greatly for what it might do to you. So take the gift, please.”

Harriet was still fishing for words. Castillon sighed.

“I’m over a thousand years old, Harriet,” he wheezed. “I was already old for my kind when I befriended Nicolas… I know not if his heaven exists, but if it does, he is there… and my best hope is that perhaps I can buy my way in with a few good deeds before I go to be with him and Perenelle again…”

Harriet thought more before slowly nodding. “I… I understand. Thank you, Castillon.”

“You are welcome, Harriet,” the little elf said, finally lowering the footrest. “In the meantime, my old ears are still sharp enough to hear that your charge has awakened.”

Harriet turned looking to the door.

“And if I don’t miss my guess… he might be trying to escape over the balcony.”

Harriet squeaked in panic and yanked open the door. They were on the top floor. A fall from this height would surely kill him.

The bed was empty, and the sliding glass door to the balcony was wide open. Harriet ran over and skidded to a halt on the polished floor. Finn had his leg half over the balcony railing but was clearly second-guessing himself as he looked down at the five-story drop.

“Finn…” Harriet said softly, trying to remain calm.

“Stay back,” Finn said, holding up his hand to her. “Don’t… tempt me more…”

“I’m not trying to tempt you,” Harriet pleaded. “I’m trying to help you!”

Finn kept staring off the balcony.

“Finn it’s five stories, you’ll die… please…”

Slowly, shakily, Finn pulled his leg off the railing. Harriet’s legs worked at once and rushed her towards Finn. Her arms wrapped around his chest holding him tight in relief.

“Whoa…” Finn grunted in surprise.

“I already lost you once! Don’t scare me like that again!” Harriet demanded.

Finn was frozen. He felt as frozen as Harriet was when she first saw him again. Then, he slowly started trembling. His knees gave out, and he slumped to the floor. Harriet gave out a cheep of surprise as she fell with him.

“There’s no escape…” Finn mumbled. “No escape… ever…”

“There’s nothing to escape, Finn,” Harriet said, grunting as she propped herself up on her elbows, looking down on him. “You’re alive… this is all real…”

Finn was staring at her. He was frozen again. His eyes were boring into hers.

“You’re real…?”

“Yes,” Harriet insisted.

She took Finn’s hand and gently cupped it to her cheek. “See? Real…”

Finn’s face was beet red, even in the darkness.

“Real…”

“I’m a human, not an angel or a demon or anything,” Harriet said. “We’re all real. You’re real, and you’re alive.”

Finn’s hand was shaking a little. She could feel his fear, but it was changed. It was apprehension now; anxiety.

“It’s just me,” Harriet said. “Just Harriet…”

Harriet was kicking herself. Of course, that wouldn’t mean anything to him. He couldn’t remember her.

Finn couldn’t look at her again. His anxiety was getting higher. Harriet slowly sat up on her knees, moving a little away from him. He propped himself up on his elbows, though he still couldn’t look at her. She felt his anxiety lessening, however.

“Finn… are you afraid of me?”

“Not good at talkin’ to girls,” Finn mumbled. “Shouldn’t talk to girls…”

“Shouldn’t talk to girls? Who told you that?”

“I told me that,” Finn said. “Think bad things about girls…”

“Like what?” Harriet asked, trying to sound gentle and caring.

Finn couldn’t answer. He was hugging his chest now, leaning back against the railing, staring at his knees.

“So, Finn… that was my name?” Finn said, clearly changing the subject.

“Yes, it was,” Harriet confirmed. “And is.”

“Finn… okay… Finn…”

“Short for Finnbar,” Harriet explained, moving over to lean back against the railing beside him, but not so close as to make him uncomfortable again.

“Finnbar…”

“Your last name’s Negus. The first time we met, you said to call you Finnegus.”

Finn snorted out a laugh. “Okay, so my sense of humour was rubbish…”

Harriet smiled gently. “I quite liked it.”

Finn became very interested in his knees again.

“So… so I’m guessing we were… romantic?”

Harriet now found it easier to look at her shoes than him.

“Well… it… was going that way…” Harriet mumbled.

The pair fell into silence.

“Who was I…?” Finn finally asked.

Harriet sighed tilting her head back, looking up at the stars. “I don’t know how to explain that to you… there’s so much…”

“How old am I?”

“Seventeen,” Harriet told him.

“Seventeen…” Finn said, looking at his hands. “They had me fighting thirty-year-olds…”

“You were fighting?”

“Briefly… really briefly,” Finn grunted.

Harriet thought. “Well… how about this? Tell me what’s been happening to you, and I can start filling in gaps?”

Finn furrowed his brow. He was thinking hard, trying to remember.

“Most the start of it is really hazy. I don’t remember much until maybe two months ago…”

“What do you remember?”

“Meeting my friends,” Finn said. “Got taken in by folk who called themselves Travellers… but most folks called them Tinkers and Gypoes…”

Harriet winced. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Finn shrugged. “They had plenty of words for them in return…” Finn sighed. “They taught me a lot though. They helped me learn how to talk right and read.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. They were amazed at how fast I learned.”

“I suppose that’s because you already knew,” Harriet said. “Before your memory was wiped.”

“That’s what they said,” Finn sniffed. “They taught me how to live off the land… how to trap rabbits and squirrels and the like. What plants were okay to eat.”

“How long were you with them?”

“About a month,” Finn replied. “Three or four weeks… hard to keep track exactly when you’re just wandering like that. Anyway… was rough-housing with some of the lads after putting on a bit of a drink and well… they learned I could take a punch.”

“That you can,” Harriet confirmed.

“They said I must have been a boxer or something before…”

Harriet shook her head. “No… you were a singer.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

“Mmhmm, singer, guitar player, pianist…”

“Jaysus,” Finn marvelled. “Everyone said I could sing alright, but… I like that better.”

Harriet smiled. “I like you singing more than fighting, too.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Harriet nodded. “Your last gift to me was a cassette you recorded of yourself singing pretty songs for me…”

“I did?”

“You did,” Harriet smiled finally looking at him. “Would you like me to show you?”

“O-okay,” Finn said.

Harriet got to her feet, holding out a hand to Finn. Finn looked at it. Harriet felt his apprehension rising again in her mind.

“Finn I’m not going to bite… we’ve kissed before.”

Finn’s face first went very pale, then burning red.

“You and me? I… you thought I was good enough to kiss?”

Harriet bit her lip. “Still do…”

Finn got to his feet on his own, turning his back to her, leaning on the balcony.

“Not if you knew the truth about me…” Finn said.

Harriet walked up close behind him. “Would that truth… involve this bandanna I’m wearing?”

Finn slowly looked back at her, blinking in surprise and confusion. “How…?”

“And maybe…” Harriet mused, moving up to stand next to him leaning her elbows on the railing. “Involve me and… rope?”

Finn was staring. His mind was swirling.

“How…?” he asked. “Did… did old me… did I tell you?”

“Not really,” Harriet admitted. “But I’m… magic.”

“Magic…?” Finn grunted. “I-I mean…” he hung his head “I guess… thanks for… not hating me…”

“Of course I don’t hate you, Finn,” Harriet said. “I’ve been going insane worrying about you… I’ve kept your memories safe for you for months. It was your last wish that I keep them.”

Finn blinked. “You have my memories?”

“That jar over there,” Harriet said. “They were taken out of your head by magic. Your… father, for want of a better term… Professor Howe took them before your mind was wiped.”

“Took my memories?” Finn stared. “How…?”

Harriet smiled brushing back her fringe. “Magic.”

Finn kept staring, his eyes drifting up to her scar. “Oh… how’d you get that?”

“Again, magic,” Harriet told him. “Watch.”

Harriet drew her wand.

“ _Expecto Patronum_.”

The blazing light of her unicorn Patronus lit up the grounds down below and the whole room. Finn shouted in surprise leaping back from the railing. The glowing silver unicorn swirled and flew through the air on its way to the ground.

Finn slowly made his way back to the balcony, staring down with amazement and wonder. “Brilliant… Is that a unicorn?”

“It is,” Harriet said. “It’s called a Patronus. It’s a projection of your happiness. It symbolises you. It drives away dark creatures called Dementors.”

“Amazing…” Finn muttered. “A unicorn… creature of strength…”

Harriet kept smiling. “I can show you lots more. But first… let’s show you some of your memories.”

Finn kept watching the Patronus until it finally diminished.

“Okay…” Finn nodded. “Yeah, I wanna see more magic…”

Harriet gently curled her arm into his. “I’ll show you… but Finn… you’re going to learn a lot of things that are going to be upsetting…”

Finn took a deep breath. “I’m not in Hell… and I’m not dead… think I’d rather know who I am than keep living in this ignorance…”

“A lot of it is about your family…” Harriet said awkwardly.

“My family?”

Harriet nodded.

Finn stared back into her eyes. Harriet felt his resolve building both in her mind and in his arm as she held it.

“I have a family?”

“Yes,” Harriet said. “Kind of… you have your brother.”

“A brother?!” Finn shouted in surprise. “I have a _brother?_ I forgot about having a brother? The fuck happened to me?!”

“Your memory was wiped,” Harriet said. “Bad people got you… but we have you now. We’ll help you remember and get you back to your brother. His name’s Colm, and you two love each other very much… he’s just as worried about you.”

“Where is he?!”

“He’s at school,” Harriet said. “He’s… it’s a tough situation. The same people who hurt you are at the school…”

“He’s in danger?!”

“No! No,” Harriet partly lied. “He’s fine, promise. You’re the one in danger. It’s why we can’t take you to him right away… but we will.”

Finn calmed, his fists unclenching.

“What about that… Professor Howe, you said? My ‘father’?”

“He’s not your real father. He took care of you and Finn… he took your memories before they were wiped. He saved your life.”

“Why’d he take care of us? Where are our real parents?”

“There’s… there’s a lot of darkness there, Finn,” Harriet said. “This isn’t going to be easy. For either of us but especially for you.”

Finn kept looking into Harriet’s eyes. “For three months, I’ve not known who I am… I lived with travellers who taught me to fight then kicked me out when they found out I’m a freak… then got taken in by an arsehole boxing promoter… by that point, I was done with fighting… he had the shite kicked out of me and threw me out in the street…”

Finn sighed looking away. “Then I had nothing again… and then I heard this song… this song, it… it meant something. It was like it was written for me, or about me…”

“ _Star of the County Down_ …”

“That’s the one… I was obsessed with it… from my time with the travellers I knew Down was a real county… and then I found Banbridge. Nothing else made sense to me but to stay there… so… I did.”

“You sang that song to me the night we first met,” Harriet said. “How did you get by after that?”

“Used what the travellers taught me,” Finn replied. “Lived off the land… Fell in with other homeless folk… people who didn’t ask questions, but appreciated having someone around who could catch food.”

Finn looked back at her. “The point is… I’ve been through hell… not much else is going to hurt me now…”

Finn held up his hands, showing her the backs of them. Harriet looked at them properly now. Emotion washed over her. His knuckles were calloused and scarred. Her stomach churned, too. His right index finger was kinked ever so slightly between the first and second knuckles, as though once broken and improperly set.

Harriet studied the hands, then Finn’s face. Beneath the beard, beneath the cuts and scars and bruises, he was Finn. Harriet slowly put her hands on Finn’s.

“Finn… you’re the same person you were then… taking your memories doesn’t change that. Not to me… Though, I think I know the first memory you need to see…”

“How exactly am I going to be shown my memories?” Finn asked, sceptically.

Harriet grinned “Follow me.”

She turned back into the room. Finn hesitated, but finally, he followed her. She led him to the Pensieve, sitting on the chair. Finn sat on the bed, watching as Harriet picked up the jar of memories.

“Pretty…” Finn said.

Harriet smiled. “Your memories.”

“Those are my memories?”

“Mmhmm,” Harriet smiled. “Copies of them, anyway. Magic.”

“Magic…” Finn shook his head in amusement.

Harriet drew her wand again. She undid the lid and set it aside.

“What’s that on top?” Finn asked, picking up the lid, studying the coin Kreacher had given her.

Harriet smiled a little. “A gift. From a good friend. I decided to put them together to keep them safe…”

“It’s pretty,” Finn said, studying the old coin.

Harriet kept smiling as she drew out the memory. She dropped it into the Pensieve, and it swirled and swooshed around.

“Whoa…”

Harriet wasn’t sure how to do this part. She thought about the memory as she raised her wand. Apparently, that was enough. A little figure of Finn rose up, smoky but clearly recognisable. He was sitting on a chair, holding his guitar.

“That’s… that’s me…” Finn said, leaning closer.

“Mmmhmmm,” Harriet smiled.

“Hey, Dove,” the little Finn said. “Dunno, this just seemed like a thing to do after I got back to Rathlin. A lot of these are songs that meant a lot to me growing up. I mean, eh not all of them are that old or nothin’, but I guess some make me think of you too, so that’s a thing. Anyway, uh… this first one is by a band not many people know—uh—called American Music Club. This song’s called  _Firefly_.”

Finn stared, leaning closer. “Bugger me…”

The little Finn sang. Real Finn was touching his own face, looking down at his own hands.

“I could sing like that…? I could play?”

“You could,” Harriet smiled. “And you can again.”

“Everyone’s been tellin’ me I can sing good, but… not like… that,” Finn gawked.

 

_“Finish the prayer that started as a kiss_  
The overwhelming dream of happiness  
I'll give you all of my good luck  
For the overwhelming dream that's killing us.”

 

“I had good taste,” Finn chuckled.

Harriet giggled a little. “I take that as a compliment.”

Finn snorted a laugh. “Good one… so, you’re Dove.”

Harriet melted a little inside hearing Finn call her that in person again after so long.

“Yes… I’m Dove.”

Finn smiled again. “I like that… Dove. A symbol of peace. Happiness. Safety.”

Harriet suddenly found it easier to study her feet again as bashfulness took her over. “Yeah?”

“The travellers I took up with were Catholic… very Catholic. Taught me lots about it. Also why they kicked me out when they found out I was a deviant… not much tolerance there.”

“You’re not a deviant, Finn,” Harriet said. “No more than me. In which case… that just means you’re not alone that way anymore, either.”

Finn stared at Harriet.

“I used to think of myself as a freak all the time,” Harriet explained. “My aunt called me one after catching me being… well…”

The pair fell silent again. Harriet could sense Finn’s interest, but he remained silent.

“Long story short, that thought you had of me today when we met… with this bandanna?”

“You saw that?!” Finn gasped.

“Magic,” Harriet said tapping the side of her head. “But not everyone can do it. I’m… special, that way. Anyway, I’ve thought of you doing that to me, too… lots of times.”

Finn was staring.

“Okay…” he said softly. “I need to see more of these memories… I have a Dove I need to get back…”

Harriet smiled gently. “Ready to have my Finnegus back, too.”


	26. Reacquainted

“Certainty and stability are two of our most craved societal traits.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

The sun was blazing through the glass door to the balcony when Harriet awoke. It had to be past noon. Harriet couldn’t fall asleep until well past four in the morning. She just couldn’t sleep. How could she? Finn is back.

She had shown Finn more tiny memories of his brother and friends, at least to familiarise him with their faces. She was leery of taking him directly into a memory just yet. That might cause him to panic again if not properly prepared for what would happen.

Harriet groaned forcing herself out of bed. She spent a while in the room’s opulent shower before dressing. She couldn’t help but feel a little cheeky as she put on the outfit Fern had prepared for her earlier in the summer: the cropped tee-shirt with the overall shorts and a pair of tube socks. She recalled Fern saying she wore short shorts to show off her legs for Kieran over the summer. Harriet knew she’d be trying her best to sit where Finn could see her legs all afternoon.

Harriet stepped out into the hallway. It was almost eerily silent, compared to how it had been over the summer when she and her friends had filled all the hallways with laughter. She walked across the hall to Finn’s door and lightly knocked.

She waited a moment, but no answer came. She gingerly tested the handle and found it unlocked. Slowly, she peeked inside. The bed had already been made, so tidy it looked as though no one had ever slept it in.

The Pensieve was still there, as was the jar of Finn’s memories. She heard the soft chime of the elevator and looked down the hallway. The doors to the elevator opened, and Dad stepped out. He still had a spring in his step, and Harriet was pleased to see he had finally let someone treat his black eye.

“Morning,” Dad said smiling. “Was just coming to wake you.”

“We were up kinda late,” Harriet said.

Dad chuckled. “So he said.”

“Where is he?”

“Downstairs in one of the studies,” Dad said. “We’re presently engaged in the arduous task of trying to keep an eye on him while giving him space at the same time.”

“Shouldn’t you be used to that by now?” Harriet asked, cheekily.

Dad laughed putting an arm around her shoulder, walking with her back to the elevator. “Maybe but see we can always count on you to be sneaking around putting your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“Hey!”

Dad laughed bending down kissing her forehead. “Kidding, kidding,” Dad said. “It is your turn to watch him though. Arthur and I have to go back to Britain for a bit.”

“Order business?”

“Not exactly,” Dad replied. “We have to, somehow, figure out how to smuggle six kids out of Hogwarts from under Umbridge’s nose…”

Harriet furrowed her brow.

“Finn’s friends,” Dad smiled.

Harriet’s jaw fell open. “You’re bringing them here? But they’re under Umbridge—”

“We were up pretty late ourselves, deliberating,” Dad interrupted. “We decided this would be for the best.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Dad smiled. “Finn’s safe here. The Ministry can’t get him here. They don’t know his memories survived, so even if they find out he’s here, all we have to say is he’s here to recover. It’s not like he has anywhere else to live. Besides, Charles still has a considerable amount of sway over Fudge. So, we don’t have Fudge to worry about so much.”

“I see,” Harriet said, feeling a tiny bit relieved.

“But it will go a long way to helping Finn, and that’s what matters most,” Dad explained as he pushed the button for the elevator.

Harriet flung her arms around him. Dad chuckled hugging her back.

“Thank you, Daddy,” Harriet mumbled into his chest.

He chuckled louder. “Daddy again, am I?”

“…Just this once,” Harriet mumbled.

They rode the elevator down a couple of floors. They stepped out, and Dad guided her to the room where Finn had been sitting with Mrs Flamel when Harriet arrived. There wasn’t talking coming from the room this time.

“He might be napping,” Dad explained. “He got even less sleep than you did last night.”

“Really?”

Dad chuckled, but his face fell. “Poor guy got up to use the bathroom and almost stepped on little Snickers as he was tidying up.”

“Oh no,” Harriet groaned.

“He took it rather well, comparatively,” Dad admitted. “He was most startled by the sound of the little guy disapparating. Mrs Flamel was able to talk him down, even had Snickers come in and introduced them properly. He still seemed pretty wide awake after that. He came down here to practice the piano.”

Harriet felt her excitement rising once more. Finn wanted to play the piano again? That was a good sign, wasn’t it?”

“Head on in,” Dad said. “Snickers will bring you some lunch, and we should be back in a couple of hours.”

Harriet replied by hugging him tighter. She bid him goodbye and poked her head into the room.

Finn was indeed passed out on one of the sofas. He was sprawled out, his mouth wide open, snoring ever so slightly. His hair had been cut, and he’d been shaved sometime that morning. He finally looked entirely like the Finn she knew. He looked younger again; the beard had added considerable age to his face.

Harriet smiled and as gently as she could closed his mouth with a fingertip. He grunted a little and rolled onto his side, grabbing one of the pillows and hugging it tight to his chest. He sighed softly, relaxing as he held the pillow close.

She sat down nearby, watching him sleep. Now that she was here, however, she felt a little awkward. What was she going to do with herself until he awoke?

She started looking around the room. It looked much like many of the rooms in the big house. Elegant wooden furniture, a beautiful Castillon made clock on the nearby mantlepiece, thick, soft area rugs.

Harriet walked over to the piano. It wasn’t the piano that had her attention, rather a little notebook set on top by the music stand. It looked perfectly ordinary as Harriet picked it up. A nagging voice at the back of her mind reminded her of Riddle’s diary, yet this notebook felt nothing like Riddle’s diary. There was no inexplicable draw to it, merely Harriet’s constant curiosity.

She flipped open the pages and recognised Sebastian’s writing.

 

_Finn,_

_This is a little diary I picked up for you in town. Use it to write down everything you see, everything that means something to you. It’ll help you start putting your life back together, help you see patterns, and so on._

 

Harriet bit her lip glancing back at Finn. Slowly, she flipped to the next page. It was already taken up with some notes about the people he’d met, starting with Dad. Here and there in the margins were written other little notes, such as: _actually really like this writing thing._

In other spots, he’d written poetry or more likely song lyrics. Harriet skipped past them to the first entry about Dad.

 

_New People_

_Daniel Dusk (cool name)_

_Tall bloke with longhair and earrings_

_Black hair_

_Tough but kind I guess_

_Took getting a shiner with stride (apologise next time see him)_

_~~Really cares about his daughter Harriet~~ of course he would isn’t that a given?_

_Seems to really care about me too. first person to genuinely care I think_

_Has a wife and two other daughters (twins)_

_Says I did something great for his daughter Harriet once (should ask what that was before talking to Harriet again)_

_Update: stopped her being blackmailed, old me was kind of badarse?_

Harriet giggled involuntarily.

 

_Arthur Weasley (funny name for a funny bloke)_

_Real tall bloke_

_Red hair (balding)_

_Nicest person I’ve met so far but strange_

_Very strange_

_Calls me a ‘muggel’ and seems to think it’s the best thing ever (thank him for this?)_

_Should apologise to him too for his nose_

_Has lots of kids, one of which Harriet’s best friend._

 

_An honest assessment I suppose,_ Harriet thought.

 

_Jessica Flamel_

_Pretty lady_

_Blonde hair_

_Looks like a model_

_Husband is kind of scary_

_Owns this giant fuck-off house and weird little creatures are running everywhere (almost stepped on one)_

_Have two daughters, one best-friends with Harriet (she has a lot of friends which is good she deserves them)_

_Really nice, can get me to calm down well when I start freaking out_

Harriet’s cheeks warmed.

 

_House elves_

_Snickers and Bowregard_

_Tiny underfoot running big bang noise making monstrosities._

_Update: Mrs Flamel took the time to introduce me to them._

_Bowregard speaks no english_

_Snickers is a little card_

_Was the one almost stepped on_

_Wants to teach me to play checkers (his favourite game)_

_Mr Flamel_

_Name Charles but he is definitely Mr Flamel_

_Brown greying hair_

_Looks like could be a king_

_Feel like he could break me in half_

_Yet seriously nice bloke_

_Ridiculously rich_

_Owns this whole town apparently?_

_Maybe crazy, talks to paintings._

Harriet had to clap her hand over her mouth to stop herself bursting out laughing at that last one.

 

_Sebastian_

_Cat man (the hell?)_

_Would be scarier if he didn’t always seem so anxious and worried around me (worried he’ll scare me? Mr Flamel 100 times scarier)_

_~~Acts like I’m about to hit him all the time~~ (you gave Daniel black eye and broke Arthur’s nose that’s probably a justified worry)_

_Says he’s a sykyatrist?_

_Wants to help me get my head back on_

“Oh, Finn…” Harriet sighed, turning another page.

This one was titled with Harriet’s name, and it had far more entries than the rest.

 

_Harriet_

_Angel_

 

Harriet felt like her face was going to burst into flames.

 

_Short but in a cute way_

_Black hair (looks a lot like her dad)_

_Cute little oval face_

_Thick eyebrows but she pulls them off so well_

_Those eyes_

_Little pouting mouth I don’t think can do anything but look cute_

_Lightning scar on forehead honestly kind of badarse_

 

Harriet slowly rubbed a hand over her forehead. He likes her scar? Probably wouldn’t if he knew how she got it.

 

_Ears pierced but doesn’t wear earrings or any jewellery really (came dressed really really hot)_

_Amazing fashion sense_

_Legs are amazing_

Harriet slowly sat.

 

_Okay stop writing about her looks_

_She’s kind_

_So kind_

_She wants me to get better_

_Really wants me to get better_

_She really cares about me_

_She watched over me all night_

_She talked me down from nearly killing my fool self_

_She showed me magic_

_She’s freaking magic (that unicorn was completely ~~badarse~~ stop calling things badarse)_

 

Harriet giggled again in spite of herself.

 

_You used to call her dove (perfect name)_

_She showed me memories_

_I can’t imagine how painful that must have been for her_

Harriet chewed her lip. It hadn’t been that painful, really, but she was touched that he was that concerned.

 

_Just felt so much calmer with her there_

_Was nice just listening to her talk about herself and memories and just talk_

_Old me was so lucky_

_Next time see her:_

_Don’t stare so much_

_Don’t act like such a bonkers weirdo_

_Just be cool and relaxed_

_You can do this_

Harriet’s heart danced a little. She remembered Finn’s memory of the Hallowe’en ball, how anxious he had been and had to talk himself up to going over to talk to her.

He was the same old Finn, after all.

There was a soft chuckle from the doorway. Harriet looked around and saw Sebastian standing there, leaning against the doorframe.

“Sorry,” Harriet said quickly closing and putting back the notebook.

“No need to apologise to me,” Sebastian said raising a hand. “It’s not my notebook.”

“Fair point…” Harriet admitted.

“He’s going to be fine,” Sebastian said overlooking Harriet’s bit of spying.

“Really?”

“Yes, really,” Sebastian said, sitting next to Harriet on the piano bench. “Memories are not all we are.”

Harriet furrowed her brow.

“The core essence of who he is remains,” Sebastian explained. “His experiences shaped his personality, yes, and those were taken away. But the personality remains.”

Harriet digested that. “That makes sense, I think…”

“He is in a lot of trouble,” Sebastian continued. “This will not be easy… he’s going to have to face some very tough realities.”

“Like his parents…?”

“Precisely,” Sebastian confirmed, sadly. “I already know most of his history from my friendship with Sherrod. He has a long road ahead, but he has us, and most importantly you.”

Harriet studied her shoes, swinging her feet, again cursing her height as her feet only barely scuffed the floor.

Sebastian was about to speak more when Finn grunted. He sat up slowly, staring around the room with mostly closed eyes.

“Harriet?” he asked looking around.

“Yes, I’m here,” Harriet said, getting to her feet.

“Dove,” Finn mumbled.

Harriet was only halfway to him when she realised he probably wasn’t totally awake. Or even a little awake.

He slowly lay back down, stretching a little and moaning. Sebastian cleared his throat, also rising.

“We… might want to give him a bit,” he said awkwardly as Finn moaned again.

“Huh?” Harriet blinked looking back at Sebastian.

Sebastian’s whiskers were twitching. “He’s about to have a very good but awkward bit of sleep that we probably shouldn’t be in here for.”

Harriet’s eyes went very wide as Sebastian put a furry hand on her shoulder and began guiding her towards the door. She stole a glance back over her shoulder. Finn was writhing a little on the couch in his dream. He was dreaming of her. By the sound of it, he was dreaming the way Harriet sometimes dreamt of him. Harriet’s awkward embarrassment was replaced by a very flattered smile, indeed.

### * * * *

Finn didn’t wake until well past dinner time. He seemed deeply embarrassed as he left the room and went to his room in considerable haste before finally joining them all for a proper meal.

He seemed to be having trouble keeping his resolutions to be more relaxed and not stare as much. The entire time he only spoke when spoken to, and largely stared at his plate. However, Harriet couldn’t help but notice that he was always watching her out of the corner of his eye. Not that she minded much.

She did not show him any more memories that night on Sebastian’s advice. He felt that Finn needed to become comfortable in his new settings before plunging him into his old reality.

Dad had not yet returned. Harriet supposed it wasn’t going to be that easy for him to successfully smuggle out a half-dozen students who weren’t his own without alerting the Ministry and the Order of the Phoenix that he was up to something.

Harriet was starting to dread the following day as night fell. She’d have to return to Hogwarts finally. She’d be back, having to return to the reality of being separated from Gryffindor tower and Quidditch. But she would be back with her friends.

She would also have to face Colm, Fern, Holly and the rest of Finn’s friends. How could she tell them that she’s seen Finn, but they can’t yet? Maybe Dad will have already spoken to them? That would take a load off.

Instead, Harriet resolved herself to making tomorrow a ‘perfect’ day. She lay awake for hours debating. Finally, around midnight, she had a plan. She would take Finn for a tour of the town, showing him things like the pub and especially the cathedral. He’d really like that, she thought. Something pretty, with the trip of being bigger on the inside than it was outside. That might be a good stepping stone to him going into a memory without panicking.

Her mind at last full of happy thoughts, Harriet found sleep.

### * * * *

Harriet woke early the next morning. She wanted to look her best. She had a whole day planned. Everything had to be perfect. Everything had to be as normal as possible. She wouldn’t have another chance for a while. She had to return to Hogwarts that night.

She dug deep into the outfit’s Scott’s cousin Jess had given her and found the perfect one. It was a white short-sleeved, ribbed sweater with three golden buttons on the left shoulder, with a black wrap around skirt, fastened in the front with six buttons. She accessorised with a pair of white knee socks and the Mary Janes that Hermione and Fern had given her over the summer.

She headed out into the hallway, listening. She didn’t hear anything coming from the rooms. She peeked into Finn’s and saw he was already up and left. This surprised her and disappointed her slightly. The mischievous part of her mind had hoped to perhaps catch him with his shirt off.

Harriet decided to check downstairs in the studies. The moment the elevator opened, she could hear slow, but delicate piano music. She grinned and followed the sound. When she peered into the room, she was in for a surprise.

It was packed full of people. Mum and the twins were there, as was both Mr and Mrs Weasley. Sebastian was sitting with his back to her, beside Mr and Mrs Flamel.

Finn was playing. His hands seemed unsteady, and the notes were slow but clear.

 

“… _But satisfied I ne’er can sleep;_

_I’ll write her a note in a few little lines,_

_I’ll suffer death ten thousand times._

_Black, black, black is the colour of my true love’s hair,_

_Her lips are something rosy fair,_

_The purest face and the daintiest hands,_

_I love the grass whereon she stands.”_

 

Finn stopped playing. The room broke into polite applause. Harriet joined in, blushing. _Black is the colour of your true love’s hair, eh_?

Finn was looking around bashful but pleased. At least until his eyes finally found Harriet. At that moment he froze as if petrified by a Basilisk. The rest followed his gaze, and all smiled in greeting.

“Morning, Harricane,” Dad said.

Rosie leaned back from where she sat opposite Dad and gave Harriet a big grin and two thumbs up. Harriet flushed a little but returned the smile and waved.

Finn in the meantime had gone back to focusing on the piano.

“Finn is fortunate,” Sebastian said bolstering. “He’s learning the piano more rapidly than I think anyone has in history. His fresh mind combined with the muscle-memory in his arms and hands is doing wonders.”

“Ta, Seb,” Finn said, not looking around.

Harriet furrowed her brow. What had happened? What made him turn around so abruptly after that first night?

“How about breakfast?” Mrs Weasley asked.

“What a marvellous idea,” Mum replied.

One by one the group began to rise. Mrs Weasley had tears in her eyes as she approached Harriet.

“What a remarkable young man,” Mrs Weasley told Harriet as she hugged.

“Thank you, Mrs Weasley” Harriet replied.

“You’re very welcome dear,” Mrs Weasley said.

The group began moving into the corridor. It was clear Mrs Weasley wanted to speak with Harriet, but Harriet kept stealing glances over her shoulder at Finn. He was taking up the rear walking slowly. By the look on his face, he was regretting this by the time the twins caught him.

“Did you know you saved Harriet from an evil blackmailer?” Nan asked.

“I was a super fan of your band at school,” Rosie said sycophantically.

“I-I did, and uh, thanks,” Finn said, looking back and forth between the girls, not sure who to respond to first.

“You were always so cool; I liked sneaking down to listen to your rock rehearsals.”

Harriet’s throat clenched. Rosie knew about Finn’s secret rock performances? Harriet had thought that was something special she’d found.

“Rock rehearsals?”

“Yeah, they were a total open secret,” Rosie said. “You all thought no one knew but… we all knew.”

“D-did we know each other?” Finn asked, blankly.

“No,” Rosie said lowering her eyes finally. “But we went to the same school. I transferred to Hogwarts, where Harriet goes, before the attack where you lost your memory.”

“So did I,” Nan said.

“I see,” Finn said sadly. “So… I had a band?”

“Now, now, ladies,” Sebastian chuckled butting in rather quickly, as though intentionally interrupting. “Finn needs rest. Your sister will help him remember everything.”

Harriet studied Sebastian’s face. Becoming more aware, Harriet realised that the anxiety in her mind was not her own. Mum was giving Sebastian a cold look, to which he returned an apologetic one and moved to her side in the group. Harriet slowed down so she could hear.

“I’m deeply sorry, Aurora,” he whispered, Sebastian apologised. “But Finn’s road to recovery is long, and he’s going to have many pains ahead… he did have a band, but as they were muggles too, their memories were all wiped.”

“But they won’t have had their memories saved as Finn had…?” Mum asked, her cool look replaced at once with pain.

“Right,” Sebastian sighed. “They’re gone… like all of the rest.”

Harriet’s stomach was tight. _Oh, Finn…_

The group was subdued through breakfast. The most conversation was between Finn and Mr Weasley.

“Here’s another item I brought from my shed,” Mr Weasley said eagerly, showing Finn a little wooden pyramid-shaped object with a slender spindle. Finn took it, studying it closely.

“I looked through for musical artefacts,” Mr Weasley explained. “That is a metronome. Now, what a city-dwelling gnome has to do with music I haven’t the foggiest.”

Rosie began hacking and coughing, having quite clearly snorted some of her milk out her nose. She looked as though she was torn between pain and completely uncontrollable laughter. Nan was patting Rosie’s back firmly.

“Thanks, Arthur,” Finn said.

He set the shaped device down on the table and tested the long spindle. It began switching back and forth, clicking quietly in a steady rhythm.

“It helps you keep time when practising music,” Rosie explained, still trying to clear her throat.

Finn nodded slowly, studying the device. “Thanks… really.”

“Makes sure you eat enough, Finnbar, dear,” Mrs Weasley said doting, sliding more brioche onto Finn’s plate.

Finn, who had already eaten quite a bit, especially for a typical light French breakfast, blanched slightly at the sight of more food on his plate.

“I-I’m…” Finn said, a hand resting on his stomach before he gave a shy smile “thank you.”

“I shall have to show you my collection sometime soon,” Mr Weasley smiled. “My crowning collection is plugs.”

“Plugs?”

Harriet’s lips were twitching. She eyed Mrs Weasley, who usually despaired at Mr Weasley talking about his collection of muggle artefacts. To her surprise, Mrs Weasley was entirely overlooking it as she doted further, fussing over Finn’s hair which was still a bit tussled.

Finn wasn’t paying much attention anymore. He was looking at his plate, his hands on the table. He looked as though he was steeling his resolve for something.

Harriet tried not looking at him. She didn’t want to make him even more nervous.

“Harriet?”

Harriet almost started as Finn spoke much louder than she was sure he intended.

“Yes, Finn?” Harriet asked, trying to be polite, smiling.

Finn was blushing as red as Mr and Mrs Weasley’s hair.

“Wonderin’ifyou’dw’nnawalkw’me…?”

Harriet blinked putting the sentence together in her head then grinned, realising what he’d asked. Of course, she would. It was more or less her plan already.

“Oh absolutely,” Harriet beamed.

Finn’s blush remained, and his eyes were fixed on his plate again, but he had a very self-satisfied smile on his face. Harriet caught Nan and Rosie’s eyes. Both were giving her very mischievous looks that told her all too plainly the idea had originally been theirs. Harriet decided she didn’t mind that much.

And so, ten minutes later, Harriet and Finn stepped out onto the driveway at the foot of the steps to the house. Finn already seems more relaxed out in the open air.

“Not used to being inside,” he says as if reading Harriet’s thoughts, squinting in the bright noon-time sun.

Harriet smiles at him gently. “The house is beautiful but being outside here is way better.”

“Amen,” Finn muttered.

“What do you want to see first?”

Finn shrugged. “I just… I need to…”

“Finn, it’s okay,” Harriet soothed. “This is new for you…”

“I’ll say,” Finn replied. “But so’s everything.”

Harriet smiled a little. “It’s kind of funny. This was actually what I had planned to do today already.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm.”

Finn smiled sheepishly. “Great minds?”

“I’d say so.”

Harriet gave Finn the tour. He was, at first, amused and dumbfounded at Harriet’s tale with Fern and finding the incriminating ladder that revealed Beauregard had been sabotaging experiments to end the demand for house-elves.

“I got forced to fight, and I only put up with that for a couple of weeks… I’d be damned if I let anyone do that too much for my whole life…”

“Me too,” Harriet said. “My friend Hermione’s started a club to help House-elves, but it’s not easy to change people’s minds.”

“Why not?” Finn asked, sounding disgusted. “It’s slavery.”

Harriet sighed. “I agree, but magical people in Britain in particular I guess don’t really see them as well… beings.”

Finn’s fists clenched. Harriet was starting to panic in her mind. This definitely was not the direction she wanted things to go.

“And the people here… these Flamels… they have them?” Finn asked. “Mrs Flamel didn’t mention the slavery bit…”

“It’s complicated,” Harriet said trying to think fast. “House-elves have been raised or maybe enchanted or something to serve people… They go into deep depressions and sometimes die if they’re released… the Flamels don’t want Snickers or Beauregard, but they’re afraid what would happen to them if they were to release them.”

Harriet couldn’t tell if Finn was listening or not.

“Castillon’s a free elf, though,” Harriet said quickly. “He’s was the Flamel’s ancestor Nicolas’ best friend.”

“Castillon?” Finn asked.

“Yeah,” Harriet replied. “Would you like to meet him? He might be at the cathedral.”

“A cathedral?”

“It’s a really big old church,” Harriet explained as quickly as she could. “It’s beautiful.”

“Okay,” Finn said.

He sounded reluctant, but Harriet was eager to get Finn thinking about happy things and more adjusted. The pair walked in near silence. Harriet’s heart was sinking. This hadn’t gone at all according to plan.

“Sorry,” Finn mumbled.

“Hm?”

Finn sighed. “Didn’t mean to ruin the mood…”

“Oh no, it’s okay,” Harriet said. “I agree… I think it’s stupid. You’d really like meeting Dobby. He’s a house-elf who works for my friend Scott’s family. Proper works. Gets pay and everything.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Harriet nodded. “And… I’ve been told that house-elves are free in America, but there are still problems. Maybe we’ll catch up here in Europe sometime soon… maybe when these stupid wars are all over… There it is.”

Harriet pointed out the entrance to the cathedral.

“Doesn’t look like much…” Finn said.

Harriet just managed to avoid rolling her eyes. “The real show is on the inside.”

Finn seemed sceptical but followed Harriet all the same up to the front door. Harriet tried the handle, and to her relief it was open.

“Are you sure we’re allowed?” Finn asked. “Sounds quiet.”

“It’s always quiet,” Harriet said. “A bunch of people came to my parent’s wedding here, and it barely took up any of the room.”

Finn raised an eyebrow. Harriet grinned and stepped into the building.

“Coming?” she called.

Finn slowly stepped inside. Squinted a little then opened his eyes wide, trying to make sense of what he was seeing.

“Jaysus…”

“Told you,” Harriet’s grin doubled in size.

Finn hurried back outside, then back in.

“It’s… it’s bigger…”

“Mmhmm, magic,” Harriet beamed.

“It’s gotta be a trick,” Finn said, turning in circles. “Like… an illusion…”

“Nope, all real,” Harriet said, drawing her wand. “Watch.”

She shot a jet of red sparks up towards the ceiling. The towering expanse of the ceiling was lit by the sparks, which then fizzled back down slowly.

Finn kept moving into the cathedral. His mouth was gaping. His eyes were like saucers.

“Who the devil is firing off magic in my cathedral?!”

Castillon’s squeaky voice rang through the halls. He came hurrying as fast as his aged body could carry him but stopped, panting heavily, leaning on his cane at the sight of Harriet.

“Ah, of course.”

Finn hadn’t seemed to have noticed. He was too entranced.

“Hello,” Harriet smiled at Castillon. “I’m giving Finn here a tour of the town.”

“It’s amazing…” Finn said, reverent.

“Ahh yes, our enigmatic muggle guest,” Castillon said.

“He’s… a Catholic, I guess,” Harriet said giving Castillon a significant look.

“Huh?” Finn looked around, remembering himself. “Oh! Hello.”

“Good morning, young man,” Castillon said, his little lips twitching.

“I bet Finn would _really_ like to know everything about this place and what it means to you and meant to Nicolas,” Harriet said significantly.

“Would he now?”

“I… well I mean… it’s amazing,” Finn said, looking around again.

“And Finn, Castillon has been working on this whole thing by himself. He knows everything about it.”

The look Castillon gave Harriet was shrewd, but he said nothing about it. Instead, it seemed he could not resist the chance to give a tour.

“The entire building is based on the Notre Dame Cathedral, one of the most famous of all cathedrals.”

“Are they all bigger on the inside?”

Castillon laughed. He started to lead Finn off, explaining the designs on the floor. As he walked with Finn, Harriet couldn’t help but notice the little elf carried himself a bit taller, and he seemed far younger than Harriet remembered ever seeing him before.

Harriet followed, not paying much attention to the conversation. Her plan was back on track. As much as she wanted to spend alone time with Finn, she wanted him to feel at home and safe. She wanted him to feel settled. She wanted him to be happy.

### * * * *

They made it to the pub just after the lunch-time rush, which pleased Harriet. Harriet and Finn sat at a booth. Harriet was just listening to Finn. He was giving her the rundown of the cathedral tour as though she hadn’t been there following along or been there before.

Finn quieted down, moaning as he drained his glass of lemonade.

“That’s feckin’ ‘mazin’,” he said setting the glass back down.

Harriet had to agree. She couldn’t remember having had better in her life.

“It is made in-house,” the kindly waitress said in passing.

The pair fell into awkward silence as they looked over the menu. Harriet already knew what she wanted.

“I… have no idea what any of this is,” Finn muttered.

Harriet tightened her lips sympathetically. She reached across the table and took his menu, slowly turning it over to reveal the English language side.

“Oh… right,” Finn said with a self-deprecating laugh.

He read more but continued to shift awkwardly.

“Are you okay?”

“I… still don’t know what any of this stuff is…”

“Let me help.”

Harriet rose and moved around the table to sit by Finn instead. A wave of tension washed over Harriet’s mind as she moved so close to him. She wouldn’t have needed her Legilimency, however. Finn visibly froze as Harriet sat.

“It’s okay,” Harriet said. “It’s just me…”

“Know,” Finn mumbled.

Finn ran a hand over his freshly cut hair as he loosened up a little. Harriet gave him a comforting smile before reading over the menu with him, explaining the options. She could tell Finn wasn’t paying much attention. She could see him studying her out of the corner of his eye, but every time she tried to look at him, he’d have already looked away.

Mischief curled Harriet’s lips. She took a breath to relax and let herself feel with her mind like Queenie taught her. She could sense Finn about to look and pre-empted him, catching him just as he looked at her.

“Caught you,” she teased.

“Sorry,” Finn said at once, looking away staring at the wall. “I’m just… I’m trying to understand…”

“Understand what?”

“Anything!” Finn said, sounding and looking exasperated. Harriet could feel his stress and anxiety weighing on her mind.

“I spent months wandering and wondering what the hell is wrong with me and who I am. All the sudden I’m dragged here to this place with all these people who tell me they know me, and this beautiful girl tells me she can help and she likes me, and I’m like ‘how have I deserved any of this’?!”

“Finn it’s not about that… besides you’re an amazing person.”

“I _was_ an amazing person.”

“No Finn, it’s still you,” Harriet said, remembering Sebastian’s words from earlier. “You lost your memories, but not who you are.”

Finn was staring at the table. Harriet rested a hand gently on his arm.

“Your memories helped shape who you are, but they’re not you. Taking them away doesn’t take away the good person you are.”

Finn was wringing his hands on his lap.

“I’m not a good person…”

“Finn…?”

“Y’don’t have to…”

“Have to what?”

“Y-y’know,” Finn glanced down at her legs and back. “Dress like… that… for me… I like it, but you don’t have to… not for me…”

Harriet stared, then laughed.

“What?”

“Finn, I don’t dress like this for _you_ ,” Harriet said. “Don’t get me wrong, the fact you like it _really_ helps, but I honestly dress like this all the time.”

Finn was staring now. “Really?”

“Really. Since before we ever met. I like it, though you’ll probably think it’s silly…”

“No,” Finn said. “Go on.”

“You remember me telling you about my family?”

“The evil ones.”

“They… some of them kind of came around,” Harriet cleared her throat. “Kind of. Anyway, yes, them. I never had new clothes or anything of my own when I lived with them. When I went away to Hogwarts, my uniform there was the first new clothes I ever had.”

Finn was still watching Harriet out of the corner of his eyes, but clearly listening.

“So, Hogwarts became my first real home. And when I’m away, I like to wear things that remind me of it: knee socks, skirts, things like that.”

“That makes sense, I guess,” Finn said. “It’s just like… you’re…”

Finn sighed deeply. He didn’t need to say it. The unspoken word floated through Harriet’s mind like a whisper in her ear. _Perfect._

“If it makes you uncomfortable I can stop…”

“No! No, no, no,” Finn said quickly. “You definitely keep being you… _always_ you, all the time. _You_ are amazing. You not being you is what I’m worried about…”

Harriet had to look away, her face on fire.

“And I just want to make sure you’re okay before I have to go back to Hogwarts,” Harriet said.

“You have to leave tonight, don’t you…?”

Harriet nodded. Silence fell again for a few moments when suddenly Harriet felt a warm hand on hers. She looked down to see Finn’s large hand upon hers.

“I’m… I think I’m going to be okay,” Finn said. “This time… meeting you again… I’m more okay than I’ve ever been, as far as I know… and knowing you’re real and out there and going to come back… that gives me something to work for.”

Harriet looked up in Finn’s eyes. Finn was staring back. Harriet wasn’t sure how much time was passing.

_She’s so beautiful,_ Finn’s thoughts danced in her mind, _she’s not smiling…_ _want her to smile so bad. She should always be smiling. She deserves to be happy forever._

Harriet couldn’t help but smile. Finn suddenly looked embarrassed.

“You’re doing that reading my mind thing again, aren’t you?”

“Sorry,” Harriet giggled apologetically. “I don’t really have control over it yet. And with Muggles like you, sometimes it’s like you’re shouting. Also, eye-contact and physical contact increases the effect.”

Finn gave a soft laugh, but he did not take his hand away, nor break eye contact.

_She’s worth all of it._

Now Harriet finally looked away. Finn looked away too.

“Sorry, too much…?”

“Just not used to people talking about me like that…”

“No…?”

“No… at least not people I want to talk about me like that.”

“You mean you do want me to talk about you like that?”

“I do, but I’m probably going to get bashful every time.”

“It’s probably going to be easier for me just to think it for a while,” Finn admitted.

“Baby steps?”

“Huh?”

“Sorry, I mean take little steps from here on… back to where we were? Or should be if not for the evil arseholes who did this to you…?”

Finn chuckled softly. “I think I can deal with that.”

The pair fell quiet once more, a couple of seconds later the waitress returned to take their orders. They watched her leave when Finn saw the piano.

Harriet smiled. “Want to try?”

Finn shifted uncomfortably. “N-not with other people around…”

“There’s barely anyone here,” Harriet encouraged. “You can sing me something now. You’ve sung for everyone else around here.”

She winked, teasingly. Finn tightened his lips but took a deep breath.

“O-okay… I do… there is one song… heard it a couple times on the radio…”

Harriet rose and slid out of the booth with Finn. They crossed the open space to the piano. Finn pulled out the bench, letting Harriet sit first then sitting with her. He opened the cover over the keys. Harriet noticed his hands were shaking a little.

“It’s okay,” Harriet smiled. “It’s just me.”

He smiled sheepishly. “I know…”

He closed his eyes, thinking. Harriet watched as he moved his left hand across in front of her to the far-left key and plunked it. Then he went across the keys from left to right, testing them all, listening.

“Okay, think I got it,” Finn said, opening his eyes.

He kept them open this time as he repeated. Harriet noticed that most of the handful of patrons were watching.

Finn took one last deep breath and began to play slowly. Harriet stared at him in amazement. With his mind fresh, he memorised the tones of the keys after only two tries, and now was playing by ear. Harriet listened close and as Finn began to sing she recognised the song from the cassette Finn made for her.

 

_“When I was born_  
They looked at me and said  
What a good boy  
What a smart boy  
What a strong boy

_“And when you were born_  
They looked at you and said  
What a good girl  
What a smart girl  
What a pretty girl.”

 

Harriet flushed but smiled softly.

_“We've got these chains_  
Hanging 'round our necks  
People want to strangle us with them  
Before we take our first breath  
Afraid of change  
Afraid of staying the same  
When temptation calls  
We just look away.”

Harriet was watching Finn’s hands move over the keys. They were slow and still shaky, but somehow that suited the song’s tone perfectly. It was pained and yet defiant.

 

_“This name is the hairshirt I wear_  
And this hairshirt is woven from your br-lack hair  
This song is the cross that I bear  
Bear with me  
Bear with me  
Bear with me  
Be with me tonight  
I know that it isn't right  
But be with me tonight.”

_I really want to,_ Harriet thought.

 

_“I go to school_  
I write exams  
If I pass if I fail if I drop out  
Does anyone give a damn?

_“And if they do_  
They'll soon forget  
'Cause it won't take much for me  
To show my life ain't over yet.”

Finn’s energy began to grow. His hands were getting steadier as he was surer of where the keys were. The song’s tempo began to pick up. Finn’s voice was growing stronger. His face was starting to twist with emotion.

 

_“I wake up scared_  
I wake up strange  
I wake up wondering if anything in my life  
Is ever gonna change  
I wake up scared  
I wake up strange  
And everything around me stays the same

_“It's the hairshirt I wear_  
And this hairshirt is woven from  
It's woven from your black hair  
This song is the cross that I bear  
Bear with me  
Bear with me  
Bear with me  
Be with me tonight  
I know that it isn't right  
But be with me tonight

_“I couldn't tell you_  
I was wrong  
Chickened out grabbed a pen and a paper  
Sat down and I wrote this song

_“I couldn't tell you_  
That you were right  
So instead I looked in the mirror  
Watched TV, laid awake all night

_“We've got these chains_  
Hanging ‘round our necks  
People want to strangle us with them  
Before we take our first breath  
Afraid of change  
Afraid of staying the same  
When temptation calls, yeah!”

Finn’s playing was its loudest and his singing the strongest. Harriet fully lost herself in the song and Finn’s performance. Once more he was that boy on the stage singing to her. He was the boy singing at Mr Hoffman’s memorial. He was doing what he was meant to do.

 

_“This name is the hair shirt I wear_  
And this hairshirt is woven from  
It's woven from  
It's woven from your hair  
This song is the cross that I bear  
Bear with me  
Bear with me  
Bear with me  
Be with me tonight.”

 

The song finally slowed. Finn’s breathing slowed. Harriet came back to her senses. The room was silent and motionless. Everyone was listening transfixed. The waitress had her hand on her heart, and her eyes were glowing.

 

_“And when I was born_  
They looked at me and said  
What a good boy  
What a smart boy  
What a strong boy

_“And when you were born_  
They looked at you and said  
What a good girl  
What a smart girl  
What a pretty girl, yeah, yeah…”

The song ended as quietly as it began. The silence lingered for a few moments after he finished, then the room filled with applause. Finn seemed to shrink at the sound, looking around anxiously.

“Finn, they liked it,” Harriet said.

She looped an arm in his and rested her head on his shoulder. “I did too. A lot.”

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” Harriet nodded. “It’s another from the cassette you gave me.”

Finn slowly relaxed and waved around the room in thanks. He was about to close the cover when a voice piped up.

“Non,” the guest smiled. “Anozer!”

“D-dunno that many,” Finn said.

“What about that one you sang to everyone this morning?”

Finn grimaced. “That one is…”

“Your audience is waiting,” Harriet smiled encouraging and teasing.

“Al…alright,” Finn said.

Then, he smiled a little. “Want me to show you how?”

“How to play?”

“Sure.”

“I couldn’t.”

“Nah,” Finn chuckled. “Here, gimme your hands… I’ll show you.”

Harriet slowly put her hands on the keys. Finn put his hands on top of hers. Harriet felt butterflies in her stomach as Finn put an arm around her to do so.

“Hold your hands just like this,” Finn said. “Like you’re holding a ball under each hand.”

“O-okay…”

“Now, press that key.”

Harriet touched the key “This one—”

“NOT THAT ONE!” Finn cried out.

Harriet shrieked in surprise and jumped clear off the bench. Finn was laughing as Harriet clutched her chest, her heart and breathing racing.

“Gotcha!” Finn laughed.

“You _arse_!” Harriet said, starting to laugh now she’d recovered herself.

She shoved his shoulder playfully as she sat back down. The rest of the pub was laughing as well and clapping. Finn was apologising profusely and once more put his arm around Harriet, his hands on hers.

“Okay, for real this time, hold your hands just like this… and push this key…”

Harriet mostly let Finn move her hands for her. She wasn’t watching the keys. She was watching the side of Finn’s face as he played. This was the best sign, even if it was at her expense. Finn was still inside there. He was going to be alright. He was going to be okay until she returned to walk him through more memories.

She was ready. She was ready to go back to Hogwarts and face the hell there. She was ready to bring down the people who did this to Finn and his friends. It was time.


	27. Back

“It is among the mind’s worst trait to focus only on what is set against us, therefore creating a hopeless situation. It is within these boundaries that we often miss opportunities to help ourselves, and instead focus on everyone else.”

General (ret.) Jigme Dorji Wengshuk

 

Harriet expected herself to lapse back into melancholy after leaving Avalon. However, she did not. If anything, when the time finally came to return to Mountain Home, Harriet’s determination had only grown.

She didn’t have Finn to worry about anymore. Finn was safe. Kinney and Voldemort were both outside of Hogwarts, and the Order and Captain Kane’s mission was dealing with them. Harriet had only one mission in mind, dealing with Umbridge and the Ministry.

She couldn’t be sure if Umbridge was totally responsible for the attack, or if she’d done so under orders. It didn’t matter to Harriet. She remembered the sound of Umbridge’s voice calling out those names. She’d loved every minute of it.

Harriet was up late into the night. She was trying to think of how best to investigate Umbridge. She was just a student at a school right now. What real hope did she have to investigate? Surely Umbridge wouldn’t bring anything incriminating to school with her?

Harriet tossed and turned. There was Finn’s memory of the attack, but Dad and Sebastian said Finn needed to fully recover before he could testify about the events. Finn’s memory was damning, but Dad said they needed Finn to prove it was, in fact, his memory and unaltered. Memories could be modified as well as erased, Dad had explained. While most times there were tell-tale signs of modification in memories, a clever enough wizard could modify it perfectly.

The most important thing, Harriet decided, was getting Umbridge out of Hogwarts and getting all the former Rathlin students out from under her thumb. Even if Harriet couldn’t get her for what happened at Rathlin, there was the fact that many of the former Rathlin students were being affected by her somehow. Whatever she was doing, it had to be illegal.

There was nothing for it. As much as Harriet wanted to be back with her friends, she had to remain in the Ursula House dorms. She had to be as close to Umbridge as possible. She’d need Krystelle and Holly and the rest. She needed advice, most of all.

Harriet sat bolt upright. She had someone she could go to for advice. Someone who wouldn’t caution her or tell her off for sticking her nose where it didn’t belong and not leaving things to the adults.

Sirius!

Harriet hurried to her trunk and began rummaging in it frantically. She found her jewellery box and opened it, pulling out the mirror.

“Sirius?” Harriet asked, not sure how loud she should be, not wanting to disturb his ward mates.

“There she is,” Sirius’ groggy voice chuckled out of the mirror as his face came into view. “How’s the boy?”

Harriet smiled. “He needs help, but he’s safe. That’s what matters.”

“Too right it is,” Sirius replied. “Daniel filled me in on most of it. I’m… I’m sorry I wasn’t able to find him sooner, myself.”

“Sirius, it’s really okay,” Harriet said. “You were trying to find him when no one else was.”

“Never in my life would have taken him for a fighter from all you’d told me,” Sirius admitted. “But seeing that shiner on Daniel’s face…”

Harriet rolled her eyes. “He doesn’t like fighting, but he’s good at it.”

“That’s a good combination,” Sirius said.

“That’s not all…”

“No?”

“Mmhmm,” Harriet nodded. “Remember that talk we had last spring? About how we’re both _different_?”

“I do,” Sirius replied, but he sounded apprehensive.

It had been when Sirius admitted to Harriet that he enjoyed tying-up people in the same way Harriet liked being tied-up. Sirius didn’t like talking about it much. He’d once gotten in trouble for it in his youth. He’d also tied up Harriet and Erica after kidnapping them both while trying to catch and murder Peter Pettigrew who was hiding as Ronnie’s pet rat, Scabbers.

“What if I said that Finn…?”

“You’re joking?” Sirius gawked.

“Nope,” Harriet grinned.

Sirius shook his head in amazement. “Many people like us would happily wait a thousand years for someone else just like us…”

“What about Professor Spring?”

Sirius suddenly looked awkward.

“You mean she’s not…?”

“I… haven’t gotten around to bringing it up with her, to be honest.”

“Why not?”

Sirius sighed. “She’s amazing… and I’m a little reluctant to do or say anything to jeopardise that…”

“Sorry…”

“It’s alright,” Sirius said. “It’s my bridge to cross when I reach it.”

The pair fell quiet.

“So, what did you really want to talk to me about?” Sirius asked.

“About Umbridge,” Harriet said.

“Ah,” Sirius grunted, sounding as though he was making himself more comfortable on his hospital bed. “That piece of work…”

He thought hard, then slowly smiled.

“I tell you what… I’m going to give you a present.”

Harriet furrowed her brow. “A present?”

“Yes, a present,” Sirius’ eyes twinkled. “I think you’ll appreciate it. Kreacher? Sorry to wake you, but I need you to take something to Harriet for me.”

Sirius began speaking too quietly for Harriet to hear. She twisted her lips, and Sirius’ face reappeared.

“He’s off,” Sirius said looking quite pleased with himself. “I can only really give you suggestions on causing mischief. Which is useful but does not a war win. This, I think, will do the trick.”

“Okay…” Harriet said impatiently.

“Oh, relax,” Sirius said. “I can’t risk being overheard, I’m afraid, so unfortunately I can’t be a direct asset. But this is all the best advice I can send you from someone who knows how to win a war.”

_Pop._

Harriet jumped spinning around on her bed. Kreacher was standing in the middle of her room, holding a book.

“Kreacher apologises for startling Miss Potter,” he said bowing and holding out the book.

Harriet slid off her bed.

“It’s okay, Kreacher,” Harriet said, kneeling.

“It’s a first edition,” Sirius’ voice came from the mirror. “By the best military mind in a hundred years, magical or Muggle I should think.”

Harriet turned the book, reading the cover.

 

_Ways of War_

_By General Jigme Dorji Wengshuk_

### * * * *

Harriet was more than groggy when she woke after a mere three hours of sleep. She’d been up nearly all night reading the book, and then writing a short letter for Hedwig to take to Finn.

 

_Dear Finn,_

_I’m heading back to Hogwarts in a bit. I’m going to be exhausted. I’ve barely slept. I have some things to confess to you. I’m not proud of them, but I don’t want anything hidden, either. After we first met, we wrote a bit, but I wasn’t really good at keeping up. I had a lot going on at the time, and wonderful though you are, a boyfriend wasn’t exactly on my mind at the time._

_I’m going to change that, this year. I’m going to do my best to write you a letter every day (crazy things happen in my life, so if you don’t get a letter, assume the school is under siege or something because I certainly won’t have forgotten). I have so much to do, now. I’m going to get the people who did this to you if it’s the last thing I do._

_Lots of Love,_

_Harriet_

It was short, but Harriet could barely keep her eyes open by the time she had finished. She still had sleep in her eyes even after showering as she made her way down the hallway towards the kitchen.

Her sleep had not been aided by having more strange dreams about the hallway to the Department of Mysteries. Why was she still dreaming about that? She hadn’t had one for a few days, but why did she have them at all? She had no real interest in the Department of Mysteries. She’d only ever seen it the few times she’d been down in the old courthouses for Sirius’ trial.

Harriet was distracted by voices coming from the kitchen. She recognised three of them as Dad, Mum, and Sebastian. The third was a woman who sounded vaguely familiar to Harriet, yet she could not quite place.

“There she is,” Dad smiled as Harriet stepped into the doorway.

Harriet was startled into full awareness by the sight that greeted her. She had almost completely forgotten all about her lessons with Madam Irene, who was now sitting at their kitchen table with Mum and Sebastian, setting down a cup of tea.

“Good morning, Miss Potter,” Madam Irene said politely.

“G’morning,” Harriet said, tripping over her tongue a little.

“We will begin your private lessons today,” Madam Irene informed her. “Beginning with Occlumency.”

Harriet looked between her parents. “I’m not going back to Hogwarts?”

“You are,” Dad said. “Madam Irene is just going to be your private tutor in a couple subjects unless you’d like her to teach you more.”

“So I’ll still be taking normal lessons?”

“If you want,” Mum said.

“Professor McGonagall has seen fit to create a private tutor position for gifted students,” Madam Irene explained casually, pausing to take another sip of tea. “You have been deemed a gifted student, and for a while will be my private pupil.”

“You’ll be Queenie’s too,” Mum chimed in. “She’ll keep teaching you Legilimency.”

“You are still attending and living at Hogwarts, perfectly legal, and will be learning at a much more advanced rate than you are accustomed, but I am sure you will rise to meet the challenge. I have been informed you are already capable of resisting the Imperius Curse and can conjure a full corporeal Patronus,” Madam Irene finished.

“I’m starting Occlumency today?”

“As trying as it is for you, Harriet, I’m afraid it’s something we can no longer wait for,” Sebastian said, doing his best to sound bolstering. “But we all have faith in you.”

“Lord Voldemort’s growing stronger,” Dad said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “We can’t keep putting off teaching you… if he ever finds out about the connection between your minds, he’ll use it at once to do terrible things.”

Harriet’s throat was tight. What if Voldemort saw her family, or her memories of Finn, and went after them to get to Harriet? Harriet’s resolve to tackle Occlumency rose as quickly as her eagerness to take down Umbridge.

That wasn’t all. She remembered a passage from Wengshuk’s book.

_Intelligence. Your best weapon and worst enemy in war is intelligence. You must always have as much information about your enemy as you can while making sure the enemy knows as little about your disposition as possible._

Harriet pondered this. If she could see in Voldemort’s mind, she was gaining intelligence. Yet he could use it too if he ever discovered it. She was beginning to feel conflicted about just how excited she should feel about this. Then again, if she could block Voldemort’s mind out, but keep looking into his thoughts, maybe she was a useful tool in the war against him after all.

“After Occlumency, we will focus on Potions,” Madam Irene explained. “That is part of why I did not begin lessons straight-away. There were important ingredients I had to procure and had to travel long and far to do so.”

“What ingredients?”

“A little of this and that,” Madam Irene said, evasively. “We will get into that this afternoon. But I have little doubt you will take to it quickly enough. Professor Snape spoke quite highly of your Potions talents when we spoke.”

Harriet’s forehead involuntarily furrowed. “He barely pays attention to me in class, and I only get okay marks with him.”

“I surmised as such, but that is because he is vindictive and petty,” Madam Irene said matter-of-factly. “But one can easily read between his lines.”

“Morning,” Nan yawned as she entered the room. “Oh, hello.”

“Good morning,” Madam Irene replied politely.

Nan glanced down at herself, dressed only in a long pyjama shirt and shorts, and slowly backed out of the room. Harriet did her best not to giggle.

### * * * *

Harriet’s heart was beginning to race. They were back in the Hog’s Head, having just Apparated there.

“Morning,” Big Ben Jackson, AJ’s older brother, said from behind the bar, putting sparkling clean mugs up in the racks.

“Hi, Ben,” the twins said in unison, looking up at him (or rather, his oversized arms) with doe eyes.

Ben gave them a warm smile that Harriet was sure under other circumstances would have given her butterflies, too.

“Howdy,” said Ben’s girlfriend, Lindsey Gallifrey, who was preparing tables with Peyton and Hyland.

Harriet took a deep breath. Hyland’s other half was not his fault. And by the looks of it, creepy though his split half could be, he was at least on their side. He’d nearly killed Solomon Kinney, even.

“Carriage should be here any minute,” Remus piped up from the door. “The dummy just left.”

“Dummy carriage?” Harriet asked.

“The reporters in town are starting to get wise,” Remus explained, coldly.

Harriet let her attention wander. She watched the girls bustling about the place. It was strange seeing them outside the context of Hogwarts. She wasn’t used to seeing any of them out of uniform. They were dressed nicely, most in dressy tops and longer skirts. Harriet was sure it went a long way towards enriching the place’s clientele.

“Howdy, Har’et,” Ben drawled, wiping down the bar.

“Hi,” Harriet replied.

“Mabel says AJ’s gone a bit loopy,” Ben said sadly.

Harriet grimaced, remembering. AJ’s best friends at Hogwarts were Parvati and Lavender, who had moved into a new dormitory rather than risk saying with a ‘possible Obscurial.’

“Mah sis always been a bit hard-headed,” Ben said. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“It’s okay,” Harriet said. “I guess I don’t totally blame her…”

“That didn’t sound the least bit reluctant,” Ben chuckled softly.

Harriet didn’t want to think about that. Instead, her eyes drifted to Hyland.

“Ben… do you know anything about—”

“Know enough,” Ben said, glancing at Hyland too, letting Harriet know he followed her.

“Has he been… drawing more?”

“All the damn time,” Ben snorted. “Drivin’ Ab up the wall. They’s left everywhere ‘round the place.”

Harriet twisted her lips. It sounded like it was getting worse.

The pair fell silent as Hyland approached them.

“Hey,” he said awkwardly.

Harriet studied him. It was astounding to her that such a skinny, gawky, curly headed boy was harbouring a secret half that could rip lampposts from the ground.

“So glad the weekend’s over,” Hyland bemoaned.

“Just wait till Hogsmeade Weekends start,” Ben replied.

Hyland groaned, thunking his forehead down on the counter.

“Ey,” Ben said flicking the washcloth at the top of Hyland’s head. “Just washed that.”

“Sorry,” Hyland said raising his head, but with a twinkle in his eyes.

_“Ohhhh, this is interesting.”_

Harriet jumped. Who’d said that? She half expected to see a snake somewhere around, but it hadn’t been Parseltongue. She heard it in her mind, not her ears.

_“Ooooh, she can hear me, even better.”_

“You okay?”

Harriet looked back and forth between Hyland and Ben. They were both giving her matching quizzical looks.

_“Gods alive it’s been so_ boring _and_ lonely _with no one to talk to!”_

“Yes,” Harriet replied quickly.

_“Liar… I should rethink this, don’t know if I want to talk to a liar…”_

“Just really tired, didn’t sleep so well last night.”

_“That much is true… okay, you’re on probation!”_

_Who are you?_ Harriet thought.

She glanced around the room. There had to be another Legilimens around. This one seemed like a boy, but she couldn’t be sure. She suddenly wished she’d been studying her Occlumency even more.

_“Now, now, don’t make a fuss!”_ the voice pleaded. _“Not here to hurt anyone! Least of all, you. He wants you safe. And I don’t hurt pretties.”_

_Who wants me safe? Voldemort?_

_“Voldemort?! Oh no, no, no,”_ the voice laughed. _“The black-eyed man!”_

_Black-eyed man?_

“Carriage is here,” Remus called.

Harriet was still looking around. Ben was joking around with Hyland. It couldn’t be either of them. Everyone else was moving about, either preparing to leave or engrossed in setting up the dining area. Harriet had to sit and think about speaking using her mind. Maybe, whoever this was, didn’t need to?

The voice didn’t sound threatening. If anything, it sounded playful; impish.

_“Yes, the black-eyed man. He’s_ very _interested in you…”_

Harriet’s eyes snapped open. The black-eyed man. The pictures of a black-eyed face Hyland was drawing without knowing it.

_Jerrad…?_

_“That’s a distinct possibility…”_

The voice began giggling and trailing off, fainter and fainter in her mind. Harriet’s knees were shaky as she moved to the door. She was eyeing everyone around her suspiciously. Who had the voice come from? It had to be Hyland. Was Jerrad able to talk with her without Hyland knowing? Or was Jerrad the ‘black-eyed man’ and someone else was warning her? It couldn’t be Hyland; he was a muggle. Was it Ben?

Dad stopped Harriet as she got to the door.

“Sweetie, are you alright?” he asked, his face furrowed in concern as he studied her face. “You’re white as a sheet.”

“I’m…”

“Should we wait one more day?” Mum asked, putting a hand on Harriet’s forehead to feel her temperature. “You feel a bit clammy...”

“I just... I just want to get back to Hogwarts,” Harriet said.

“Alright,” Dad said though Harriet could feel his apprehension.

“Someone’s looking,” Remus said, peering out the door towards the high street.

“On we go,” Mum insisted, putting an arm around Harriet and walking with her briskly out the door and into the carriage. The twins and Dad piled in after them and shut the door.

Harriet was silent, staring blankly as the carriage began rocketing down the street at full speed. She wasn’t even aware of the dragon-horses pulling it. What had just happened? Had that really happened? Was she going crazy?

_“I’m afraid not_...” the tickle in her mind whispered.

### * * * *

Harriet was still shaken by the time the carriage arrived at the front entrance to Hogwarts.

“I’m going to speak to McGonagall and get you one more day of rest,” Mum said.

Harriet’s head hung slightly. She was suddenly becoming ashamed of herself. She’d had such big plans for her return, and now all she could feel was shocked and exhausted.

“It’s okay,” Dad said, putting a hand on Harriet’s shoulder. “This isn’t easy...”

“We can bring you your homework,” Rosie said helpfully. “Then you can show us your new room.”

In spite of all that had happened, Harriet smiled a little.

“Can I still see my friends, first?”

“Of course, sweetie,” Mum smiled.

Harriet’s mood rose even farther. Dad opened the door, and the twins hopped out first. Mum followed, then Harriet, and Dad. Mum and the twins headed up into the school, but Dad put a hand on Harriet’s shoulder, kneeling to look her in the eyes, studying her closely.

“Honey, what happened?” he asked. “You seemed fine then all the sudden you went so pale...”

Harriet swallowed. Should she tell? Would he believe her?

“I heard something,” Harriet said.

“What was it?”

Harriet thought hard.

“Queenie and I can ‘talk’ with our minds because we’re both Legilimens,” Harriet said.

Dad nodded, though didn’t say anything.

“I heard a voice in the pub, and it sounded just like someone ‘talking’ to me with Legilimency,” Harriet said.

Dad’s eyebrows were nearly touching. “Who was it?”

“I don’t know,” Harriet said. “They said something about a black-eyed man and that was it...”

Dad looked off into the distance, rubbing his chin, thinking hard.

“They didn’t seem to have anything to do with Lord Voldemort,” Harriet said. “And... Crouch Jr and Kinney don’t have black eyes, so it can’t be them...”

“I... I suppose that’s true,” Dad mused. “Harriet, I want you to promise me, if anything like that happens again, you tell your mother at once.”

“Yes, Dad.”

“In fact, you should tell her about this happening as soon as possible.”

“Yes, Dad.”

He pulled her into a tight hug.

“I’m proud of you, sweetie,” Dad said. “You’re always so brave and strong...”

“Thanks, Daddy...”

“Daddy again?”

“Just this once...”

### * * * *

Ronnie shrieked with delight at the sight of Harriet. She wasn’t ready to enter the Great Hall just yet, and so sat on a bench outside, waiting for breakfast to finish. She’d nearly dozed off when the doors opened.

Ronnie yanked Harriet up off the bench and into a hug that left Harriet’s feet dangling at least a foot off the ground. Harriet didn’t care. She was hugging Ronnie back as tightly as she could.

More arms wrapped around them. She recognised all their voices. Now she was here; her heart was aching over how much she had missed them. She missed Hermione’s constant fussing over hers and everyone else’s studies. She missed Ronnie’s football obsession and bird facts. She missed Marcus’ indignations at injustice and flame charms. She missed Kieran’s quiet optimism always trying to keep everyone’s spirits up. She missed Scott’s constant hunger for solving puzzles sometimes single-mindedly. She missed Dora’s snarking sense of humour that made the brief glimpses she gave of her pure heart underneath all the more meaningful.

“You’re back!” Ronnie exclaimed.

“I am,” Harriet managed to grunt.

_She’s back._

_Thought she was gone._

Harriet fought off a grimace as the thoughts of passing students began intruding. Hermione seemed to notice.

“Let’s get somewhere quieter,” Hermione said in a hushed voice.

They hurried off with the flow of students but slipped into the first vacant classroom they found. Harriet felt relief as the door closed, drowning out both the sound and the thoughts. Harriet was cursing herself. Why had she succumbed so quickly again? Was it because of the stranger in the Hog’s Head?

She looked around at her friends after catching her breath. All of them were giving her glowing looks. Hermione had tears in her eyes, but that was normal enough any time she was emotional in particular.

“You all know?” Harriet asked.

“Oh, Harriet,” Hermione said, hurrying over and hugging Harriet once more. “You must be so relieved…”

“I am,” Harriet replied, her own emotions starting to rise.

“How is he?” Marcus asked, sitting on top of a desk. “Your dad only told us he’d been found and you were okay and staying with him.”

“He’s… well enough I guess,” Harriet thought. “He thought he was living in literal hell before we found him.”

Marcus whistled. “Poor bloke… but can’t say I blame him…”

“Colm really wants to talk to you,” Scott said.

“And Krys,” Dora added.

“Or you know, everyone,” Ronnie rolled her eyes.

“I want to see them all, too,” Harriet said, leaning back against the teacher’s desk. “What about Fern?”

Kieran’s face fell. “We haven’t told her, yet…”

“Everyone agrees she’s still too much in Umbridge’s pocket,” Dora chimed in. “Umbridge went for her hard…”

Harriet’s stomach knotted, and she gained a strong desire to punch Umbridge right in the face, as Mum had done to Rita Skeeter.

“We’re all walking on tiptoes around Fern,” Hermione said with a pained voice. “She’s been delivered from a fire into the frying pan…”

“Isn’t that the other way around?” Ronnie asked.

Hermione shrugged. “I can’t actually decide if Fern’s mother or Umbridge are the worse, here…”

Scott sighed looking at his watch. “We should get going… lessons are about to start.”

“We can catch up at lunch,” Dora said as they exited the classroom.

Harriet waved after them, and they hurried off for History of Magic.

“Has Umbridge inspected Professor Robertson, yet?” Harriet asked.

“Yep,” Marcus said. “She’s inspected pretty much everyone, I think.”

“Robertson, I think, is going to be okay,” Kieran added. “He’s just filling in.”

“The only lesson she hasn’t inspected, as far as I know, has been the Captain,” Hermione explained.

Harriet pondered that. The Captain’s lessons hadn’t been inspected? Why not? She clearly didn’t like him. Harriet added it to her list of mysteries about Umbridge.

### * * * *

Harriet slumped into an armchair by the Gryffindor common room fireplace. Hermione was off at Arithmancy, while Kieran was in a pre-healing class and Marcus was on a prefect patrol. Harriet was beat. That afternoon, Captain Kane had introduced a new regimen to their lessons: physical therapy.

_“The body is just as important to train as the mind,”_ Captain Kane’s words rang in her ears as he jogged past them all as they ran laps of the castle.

Harriet was exhausted, and she still had her first Occlumency lesson that night. Her legs and chest burned from the effort. At first, Harriet reminded herself that such training would be useful for Quidditch. Immediately after, her mood dropped, remembering she had been removed from the team by Umbridge and Professor Weasley.

Harriet sighed. She couldn’t believe that only twenty-four hours ago she’d been happy with Finn in France. Now she was back at Hogwarts, having to deal with hearing everyone’s thoughts all the time, Umbridge, and no Quidditch to distract her.

“Isn’t she out of our house?”

Harriet’s eyes narrowed. She recognised Lavender’s voice at once from across the common room.

“She’s just sleeping there for a few nights so she can relax!” Ronnie bellowed, leaping to her feet. “She’s still a Gryffindor!”

Harriet stared. Ronnie’s face was burning red, and her hands in fists.

Lavender was speechless. Parvati was glaring back, while AJ was far more interested in her History of Magic textbook than was believable.

“She just asked a question,” Parvati said.

Her tone was casual, but Harriet could hear the derision in her voice. It was too much. Harriet’s temper flared.

“Just asked a question?” Harriet asked, also getting to her feet.

Parvati now fell as silent as Lavender had.

“Just asked a question?” Harriet repeated. “Did any of you ask about what else happened that night?”

“Did you?” Ronnie continued, standing side by side with Harriet.

“Did you all only read the article that mentioned I might be an Obscurial?” Harriet demanded. “Did you skip over the others that denied it and pointed out that I’d been attacked? How five boys jumped me and hit me and kicked me before starting to cut off my clothes?”

Parvati and Lavender were gaping. The entire Common Room was silent now.

“But no, clearly I’m the monster, here,” Harriet snarled. “You two wanted a different room because you didn’t want to share one with me, but you know what? Good, because after this _I_ don’t want to share a room with you!”

Harriet spun on her heel and began storming towards the portrait hole. She gave one little glance over her shoulder, catching sight of Ronnie giving the pair a double two-fingered salute before she turned to follow Harriet as well. There were a couple of whistles and cheers with a bit of applause following them as Harriet climbed out of the portrait hole, Ronnie following, slamming it shut after them.

“Good gracious!” the Fat Lady stammered, stumbling over and leaning against the edge of her portrait to steady herself.

“That was _brilliant_ ,” Ronnie said.

Harriet’s anger abated, and she looked up at her best friend. Ronnie had run to Harriet’s defence before Harriet had even thought to defend herself. Harriet put an arm around Ronnie’s waist and leaned against her. Sirius had been right. She needed her friends, and they’d be there for her. There had been problems the previous year, yet now, it felt different. Everyone was older. Everyone knew the stakes now. They were united.

There was a pattering of feet behind them. The pair looked around to see little Gideon Hithersbee running after them.

“Hello,” Harriet said, weary but calmer.

Gideon caught up to them. He was out of breath and looking up at Harriet with reverence on his little face.

“That was amazing…” he managed to say.

“Thanks,” Harriet said, not sure how proud of herself she should be.

“Lots of us have been worried about you,” Gideon admitted. “Not all of us Gryffindors are like those two.”

Harriet’s heart swelled slightly. “Thank you, Gideon.”

“C-call me Gid,” Gideon stammered. “Everyone does.”

There was a clicking of heels. Madam Irene was ascending the staircase towards them. The trio fell silent as the austere woman approached. Gideon audibly swallowed.

Madam Irene’s imposing appearance was not helped by her long black robes and the rest of her ensemble which fit well with Professor Howe’s often Victorian-era aesthetic. She wore a white shirt with lacy sleeves and collar, a tight-fitting black vest, and black riding trousers with boots. All her jewellery was silver, which with her pale complexion gave her the aura of a ghost.

“Good afternoon, Miss Potter,” Madam Irene said.

“Good afternoon, Madam Irene,” Harriet replied.

Gideon was backing up a little, while Ronnie was staring.

“It is impolite to stare, Miss Weasley, and your mouth is open.”

“Sorry,” Ronnie said, closing her mouth at once and looking at the floor.

“Our lesson will begin in one hour,” Madam Irene said. “I have come to remind you in person, not trusting any other form of messaging in this place.”

Her eyes flashed towards Gideon who froze in place as though Madam Irene were a basilisk that had just petrified him.

“This will remain secret, won’t it, young man?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Gideon said, gawking up at Madam Irene.

“Gideon’s alright,” Harriet said.

Gideon flushed with bashful pride. “Harriet saved my life once. Anything to help her out!”

Gideon stood straight and gave a rather haphazard salute. Harriet was deeply touched. Gideon was beginning to grow on her. He was certainly less irksome than Colin had been.

“Excellent, then you may go, young man.”

Gideon gave Harriet a tiny thumbs up before turning and hurrying back to the portrait hole. Ronnie had been staring at Madam Irene again but looked away as Madam Irene returned her attention to the remaining pair.

“One hour, Miss Potter, in the History of Magic classroom.”

“Yes, Madam Irene,” Harriet replied.

“Miss Weasley,” Madam Irene nodded to her.

“M-ma’am,” Ronnie mumbled.

Madam Irene turned and began descending the staircase with unnatural grace. Some students had trouble walking down the steps in normal shoes, let alone in heels.

“I’m so turned on right now…”

“Ronnie!”

“She’s hot!”

“…I’m telling Dora.”

“You are not—Oye, get back here!”

### * * * *

Harriet arrived early to the lesson. She felt arriving late would leave a bad impression. She’d appreciated having a full hour, as it had allowed her time to make it to Mum’s office, giving her the letter to take to Finn (which she’d almost forgotten in the wake of the incident in the Hog’s Head). She also told Mum of the incident, as Dad had requested. Mum reacted much as Dad had and promised to talk to the barman to begin checking the premises more vigilantly.

Harriet arrived before Madam Irene and sat at one of the desks. As much as she liked Professor Robertson so far, she did miss Professor Stratton. If Professor Stratton were still here, he’d likely have decorated the room like something out of the 1930s or 1940s when Grindelwald was at the height of his power.

Harriet was fidgeting with her hands as her anxiety grew. The last time she’d practised Occlumency she’d seen Professor Snape telling Lord Voldemort the part of the prophecy he had overheard that sent Lord Voldemort to kill Harriet and her parents. The last time she’d practised Legilimency, she’d seen inside Lord Voldemort’s head as he inspected his Death Eaters making anti-Ministry propaganda. What was going to happen this time?

“Excellent, you’re here.”

Harriet jumped. She hadn’t heard Madam Irene approach. To her surprise, Madam Irene was no longer dressed in her austere black outfit. She still wore all black, but now was dressed in tight, form-fitting spandex clothing much like Harriet and Mum’s running outfits. She had two mats rolled up and tucked under one arm, and a satchel tucked under the other.

“Before we work on the mind, we must work on the body,” Madam Irene said without preamble as she closed the door behind her, locking it.

“O-okay,” Harriet said, rising.

She was strongly reminded of Captain Kane’s lectures during the day’s Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson.

“I believe these are your size,” Madam Irene said.

She set down the satchel on a nearby desk and rummaged inside it. She pulled out a bundle of clothing and held it out to Harriet. Harriet took it, discovering it to be a matching outfit to Madam Irene’s.

“Funny,” Harriet said, glancing around the room for somewhere to change.

“What is,” Madam Irene asked, flicking her wand and conjuring a beautiful oriental themed changing curtain.

“Captain Kane said something like this during class today,” Harriet explained, changing.

“He’s an astute man,” Madam Irene said. “I’d listen to him, for the most part.”

“For the most part?”

“Captain Kane has valuable experience in conducting warfare and subterfuge,” Madam Irene explained. “The MACUSA was right to send him to deal with Fudge and the Ministry.”

“Okay,” Harriet said, pulling on the top. “But why just for the most part?”

“Because that is now the only lens through which he can view the world,” Madam Irene said.

Harriet was taken slightly aback. Madam Irene’s voice was constantly cold and calculating. Yet now Harriet both heard pity in Madam Irene’s voice while feeling a wave of it wash over her mind.

“Captain Kane does not use Occlumency to keep the Ministry out of his mind,” Madam Irene continued as Harriet stepped out from behind the curtain. “He does it to keep the memories of what happened at Bakersfield hidden. Things happened there that even he’s afraid to face.”

“Like what?”

“I cannot say, he’s too skilled for me to get a proper picture, yet every time I am in his presence, that word, Bakersfield, is always a whisper. Sadly, at this point, I’m doubtful he can even turn it off.”

Harriet felt awkward discussing Captain Kane like this.

“Summarily, I would only approach him on matters of conflict and dealing with the Ministry, Lord Voldemort, and Solomon Kinney.”

Harriet wasn’t sure what to say. She instead looked herself over in the tight outfit. Her sense of embarrassment grew. The outfit was certainly comfortable but far too tight for Harriet’s liking. It showed her midriff and highlighted the fact she had a hint of a belly and love-handles.

“Your appearance is fine,” Madam Irene said, rolling out the mats. “Women are supposed to have slight bellies. It’s called a pooch. It is a small pad of fat that protects your reproductive organs.”

“Huh,” Harriet said, trying to look down at herself with that in mind. “Never knew that…”

“Most don’t,” Madam Irene replied, “but society has never truly cared for biology.”

Harriet digested that, walking over to the mats.

“We’re going to start with basics,” Madam Irene said. “Focus on relaxing your body so you can relax your mind.”

Harriet felt it should be the other way around. Relaxing her mind would go a long way towards relaxing her body.

“First we will do some breathing exercises,” Madam Irene continued. “Stand on the mat, feet together, arms at your sides.”

The exercises began. They first focused on breathing. They breathed deeply, raising their arms over their heads, then lowered while exhaling. They repeated five times before sitting cross-legged, performing another set of five deep breaths.

Harriet was surprised to realise she did feel more relaxed already, and they hadn’t even gotten into the proper stretches. Her mind was leaving behind all other worries as she focused on her body. Maybe Madam Irene had a point?

“Life is about balance, Miss Potter,” Madam Irene said as they finished.

Harriet was only half listening. In all honesty, she was now so relaxed she was about to fall asleep.

“A sharp mind needs a fit body,” Madam Irene continued, rolling up her pad. “Keeping your body fit and your systems in a proper working order helps your mind work properly as well.”

“That makes sense,” Harriet admitted.

“And now your mind is empty,” Madam Irene said. “And we can begin Occlumency proper.”

Harriet felt her worries beginning to flood back at once.

“Keep your breathing steady,” Madam Irene said, seeming to sense Harriet’s rising tension despite her back being turned. “Remember the exercises. Think about your body.”

“Okay,” Harriet agreed.

She studied Madam Irene’s back as she rummaged deeper in the satchel. She seemed different now they were just the pair of them. Her gruff nature seemed more relaxed, though she was still in control and confident.

Madam Irene finished whatever she was doing and returned her attention to Harriet.

“Now we’re relaxed, let us begin. The first thing to keep in mind when performing Occlumency is using your enemy’s weakness against them.”

Harriet furrowed her brow.

“It is more difficult for people to see what they cannot comprehend,” Madam Irene explained, though did not make the subject that much clearer.

Madam Irene studied Harriet’s face. “When Professor Snape accessed your memories using Legilimency, am I correct in guessing that he only saw negative memories?”

“Yes…?”

“Professor Snape understands pain and sadness and loss,” Madam Irene said, “those are the easiest memories for him to see.”

Harriet slowly nodded. She was starting to understand now.

“If you focus your mind on the things your enemy cannot understand, it is far more difficult for them to see into your mind.”

Harriet nodded, thinking hard. That meant it was similar to a Patronus, which spoke to how difficult it was.

“That is not the entirety, however.”

Harriet looked up into Madam Irene’s serious face.

“Those passive measures can be broken through in brute force magical attacks,” Madam Irene explained. “It is almost magical warfare.”

Harriet swallowed.

“With practice, you will get better,” Madam Irene said. “Though your progress will not be quick. The expectations Professor Snape put upon you were unreasonable, though given his reluctance to do so at all did not help.”

Harriet fought back a scowl. Was that so?

“That is why you must clear your mind as much as possible,” Madam Irene said. “Hence, the yoga and relaxation exercises.”

Harriet pondered that. She had been getting regular and disturbing glimpses into Lord Voldemort’s mind all the past year until she began her sessions with Sebastian. The regular calming draughts and breathing exercises, were they having an effect, too?

“The next key is being vigilant.”

_“Constant vigilance!”_ rang in Harriet’s mind. She also thought more about what she’d read in General Wengshuk’s book.

_Intelligence. Your best weapon and worst enemy in war is intelligence. You must always have as much information about your enemy as you can while making sure the enemy knows as little about your disposition as possible._

Occlumency. Occlumency was going to be her best weapon in keeping Lord Voldemort from gaining information. She had to learn it; everything might depend on it.

“So, this connection between Lord Voldemort and me… I can see in his mind, but he hasn’t seen in mine…”

Harriet trailed off under the scrutinising look Madam Irene was giving her.

“Continue your thought.”

“Well…” Harriet kept thinking. “If I know what Lord Voldemort can’t understand… or Professor Snape… I can keep them out by focusing on what they can’t understand, is that right?”

“Yes, it is the core of the defence.”

“Okay, but I mean…” Harriet fumbled for words.

“Take your time.”

“I can’t know what’ll drive out everybody,” Harriet said. “That’s the reason it’s not perfect, right?”

“Correct, that is one of the major flaws in Occlumency, and so it requires a vigorous and vigilant focus.”

“Okay… so my other question is… how come I can see in Lord Voldemort’s mind but he hasn’t figured out how to see in mine?”

“You, from what I understand, stumbled upon this by accident. It is not something you can actively perform, is that correct?”

“It seems so…”

“Then it is probable that Lord Voldemort has simply not been as fortunate,” Madam Irene explained. “And that is no comfort because that makes it a matter of time before he does.”

“So all roads for me lead to Occlumency,” Harriet said.

“Correct.”

Harriet closed her eyes. She slowed her breathing, remembering the relaxed sensation the yoga had filled her with.

“So… you’re not going to tell me what might work best to keep you out, are you?” Harriet asked, opening her eyes.

Madam Irene raised her wand.

“Certainly not. Now, draw your wand, and prepare…”

### * * * *

Harriet’s knees felt weak. She was utterly exhausted. She’d barely slept. She’d had some strange person intrude on her mind in the middle of a crowded pub. She’d spent an hour doing callisthenics in Captain Kane’s Defence Against the Dark Arts class. She’d then spent another hour and a half doing yoga and then fighting off Madam Irene’s Legilimency attacks on her mind.

She’d done better than she had under Professor Snape. Madam Irene proved much harder to throw off. She seemed to pick up almost every type of memory that Harriet had, both happy and sad. At least she hadn’t seen inside Voldemort’s mind, or any of Madam Irene’s memories.

Now, Harriet was facing her final test of the day. She was standing outside the entrance to Ursula House’s dorm. Inside was her new single room, a world under Umbridge’s watchful eye, and facing Colm and the rest of Finn’s friends.

Harriet wasn’t sure why the last part had her so afraid. She knew they all already knew that Finn had been found. Why then was she unable to raise her hand to open the door?

The Auror standing guard rolled his eyes and opened the door for her. Harriet narrowed her eyes at him. She was about to take a step in when a tall, gangly figure ran into her, knocking her back a few steps. She would have fallen flat on her back if not for the figure also grabbing her into a tight hug.

“H-hi, Colm,” Harriet whispered, slowly hugging the boy back.

The Auror guard was giving them a strange look. Colm didn’t say a word as he finally released Harriet and took her hand, leading her across the threshold. As he took her hand, Harriet felt a small folded up piece of parchment being pressed into her palm.

Colm gave her a significant look over his shoulder, and Harriet nodded. She’d have to read it later.

Colm led her into the common room. It was already mostly vacant, except for a handful of students she didn’t recognise.

“You haven’t really been given a proper tour,” Colm said, a bit loudly.

“I—no I haven’t,” Harriet replied.

Colm was smiling, but it felt very forced. His eyes were over-bright, and his hand was shaking a little as it held Harriet’s still. Harriet felt her own eyes tearing up, as Colm’s pained happiness began bleeding into her mind.

“He’s—”

Colm’s smile vanished at once, and he gave his head a vigorous shake, glancing towards the other students. Harriet chanced a glance at them as well and noticed that several seemed to be watching them out of the corners of their eyes.

Of course, it wasn’t going to be safe, here. Perhaps here least of all. Now Harriet fully understood why Umbridge wanted her to be located here in Ursula House.

_You must always have as much information about your enemy as you can while making sure the enemy knows as little about your disposition as possible._

Very well, then. Harriet knew plenty of places to hide from Umbridge.

Harriet forced a smile on her face. “Okay, show me around.”

Colm managed to smile again as well and led Harriet down one of the hallways. The building was divided into two sides, boys and girls, much as Hogwarts’ dorms were. The rooms, for the most part, had four students, though, in ‘exceptional’ cases like Harriet’s and Fern’s, they were given private rooms. Harriet bitterly knew that in Fern’s case it was to kiss her ass, while in Harriet’s it was to isolate her.

This wasn’t going to be so easy, after all. Umbridge had so many of the cards. Harriet was kicking herself over her foolishness. She had a powerful tool in Finn’s memory against Umbridge, but that couldn’t possibly be enough. And Harriet was in a lion’s den of brainwashed students, almost all likely acting as Umbridge’s eyes and ears.

They finished, arriving at Harriet’s dorm door. Harriet quietly opened it.

“We, um, we can wait up for you to all go to breakfast together, tomorrow,” Colm offered.

Harriet smiled softly. “I’d like that…”

“And… if you want to hang out with Fern sometimes, that’s cool, too…” Colm added. “Just, you know…”

“I know, keep things quiet.”

Colm gave her a sad but reassured smile and headed off down the hallway towards the boys’ dorms. Harriet shut the door and locked it. She studied the handle, unsatisfied. She hurried over to her desk and dragged the chair across the room, propping it under the handle as an extra locking mechanism to bar the door.

“That should help,” Harriet muttered.

She wasn’t sure why she was taking such measures. Everything felt wrong. She was suddenly glad she remembered to send out her letter with Mum instead of Hedwig. She wouldn’t put it past Umbridge and the Ministry to start reading students’ mail.

Harriet felt her anxiety rise. She closed her eyes and sat on her floor. She crossed her legs, putting her hands on her knees. Just like Madam Irene taught. She kept her back straight and slowly, deeply, breathed in, rising her shoulders as high as they’d go. She let it back out, slowly lowering her shoulders back to normal.

She repeated three times until finally, her mind felt calm once more. She opened her eyes, taking in her room properly. She’d never really considered it before.

It looked new and comfortable. She rose and sat on the bed, finding it soft, but nothing like her large Gryffindor four-poster. There was a large wardrobe for her belongings, a place at the foot of the bed where her trunk had already been brought, and a desk with an oil lamp for studying.

Harriet finally looked down at the note folded up in her hand. She opened it hesitantly, reading. She recognised Holly’s neat handwriting.

 

_Dear Harriet,_

_It’s me, Holly, writing for all of us. No words will ever express how grateful we are. He’s alive, and he’s safe where no one can get to him. It’s the best news any of us have heard. My parents are going to work to help us see him. My family has good connections. We’ll try and get in touch to talk without suspicion later._

_Love,_

_Holly, Colm, Krys, Portia, Gaius, Don_

Harriet’s heart swelled markedly in her chest. She folded the little letter up and opened her trunk to put it inside. Harriet blinked as a piece of parchment fluttered up and out of the trunk onto the floor. It had been set on top of the contents and blown away by the quickly opening lid.

Harriet smiled, expecting it to be a little letter from Dad or Mum. She picked up the parchment, turning it over.

Harriet dropped it at once and leapt to her feet. It couldn’t be. How did it get there?

The parchment fell with the image upright and facing her. How was this possible.

Seeming to look up at her from the page, unmistakable, was one of Hyland’s drawings of the ‘black-eyed man’.


End file.
